


noble heart such as yours

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: long and happy was their reign [5]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Hermione Granger, Character Death, Character Study, Child Abuse, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Good Slytherins, Growing Up, Hanukkah, Happy Ending, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Indian Harry Potter, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), M/M, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Pride, The Problem of Susan, it's a bit of a fuck you to Aslan and Dumbledore, it's a crossover that actually works, this is my favorite thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:17:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: Harry Potter meets Dean Thomas as a kid and they become best friends. One of Dean's mums, Susan, tells them fairytales about Narnia, about faith and power and cleverness. She warns them not to put their faith in thoughtless gods and old, "wise" men, to swear at the powerful and pray to no one but themselves.Their world changes.





	1. must have known you would always want to come back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts), [ShanaStoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanaStoryteller/gifts), [Silent_Lex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_Lex/gifts).



> Title is from C.S. Lewis and lyrics in fic are from "Journey of the Magi" by T.S. Eliot.
> 
> Damn, this is the longest one-shot I've ever written. I started it last Sunday afternoon, and I just now finished it. This was supposed to be only a couple thousand words, and dang, how it's grown.
> 
> Also, for visual reference: Abraham is played by Daniel Radcliffe (at least as a young adult), Susan by Anna Popplewell, and Claudia is played by Aja Naomi King (in young adult). Harry is played by young Manish Dayal, and Hermione by Amandla Stenberg.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from J.K. Rowling.

_All this was a long time ago, I remember,_

_And I would do it again, but set down_

_This set down_

_This: were we led all that way for_

_Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly-_

 

When Harry is five years old, he meets a lad named Dean Thomas on a playground in the middle of the neighborhood. Dean likes football and drawing, and Harry doesn’t know what he likes, not yet, but no one at their school looks like them and they bond over this mutual loneliness.

“You’ve gotta meet my parents,” Dean says after a few hours.

“Sounds like fun!” Harry crows.

\---

Aunt Petunia sneers whenever the Thomases are mentioned. “They're freaks,” she says.

Harry doesn't know why she doesn't like the Thomases. Sure, they're kinda old, and Dean has _two_ moms and a dad, but Ms. Susan is a lawyer and Ms. Claudia brings Harry home newspapers to read and Mr. Abraham makes the _best_ biscuits, so Harry doesn't get it.

\---

Susan Pevensie has a son. He is everything and nothing like she thought her children might end up being someday, but she is so bloody proud of him. He is brave and noble, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He is just like the Aunt and Uncle he'll never meet, fighting for those he loves and falling in love with everything and everyone. He is the kind of child who would find a magical kingdom in an ordinary wardrobe, would take up Aslan’s call and be called Magnificent.

His first name is his grandfather's by Abraham. His second is his uncle by Susan. Dean Edmund Thomas bears names given to him by all of his parents, has his mother’s dark features and his father’s bright eyes and his mum’s long hands.

And of course he has to go and make friends with the little lad four streets over, the scrawny Indian lad who constantly looks underfed and underloved. Harry Potter slips into their world with barely a splash, becoming her lad as easily as she took up her crown, all those decades ago.

He looks nothing like her family, with his bright green eyes and brown skin, but the moment he speaks Susan can't help but see the one brother Dean doesn't remind her of. Harry is bitter and wishes for something greater than the life his horrible family is giving him.

It is Susan's lot, then, to pick up after bitter boys and sunshine sons, to clean up the messes of younger family members. Even as a lawyer, she still finds plenty of time to be home, to help out a retired Abraham and senior-undersecretary-to-their-MP Claudia.

This family is hers, and she will take care of it.

 

In this world, with this family, Harry gets hugged. Dean and his family make up for the lack of affection they show in public with a wealth of love shown indoors, hugging and kissing each other like soldiers returning from war.

To a lad like Harry, who never gets hugged regardless, being swept into this loving family is everything he could have dreamed of.

 

Though Harry grows up raised by two Muggle families, there is still a certain magic in his world from the time he turns five, when he meets Dean, until the day he gets his letter. Ms. Susan's tales of a magical kingdom and Ms. Claudia’s impossibilities (a woman with skin darker still than Harry's being senior undersecretary to their MP? That's crazy, especially if you ask Harry's actual family) and Mr. Abraham's “magic” card tricks bring a bit of wonder into Harry’s life, expose him to impossibility.

Harry Potter doesn't see an actual spell until the day Hagrid comes to him to a small island in the middle of nowhere to deliver a letter of acceptance. And yet- he does see magic. He sees miracles and fairytales and impossibilities. He learns what one can do, if one only puts their mind to it. He learns what magic hard work and ambition can get you, if you only believe.

* * *

The day after Harry returns from an island, the promises of a giant ringing in his ears, he finds Dean at the park. “Guess what just happened to me?” he asks.

“Can't be as cool as what just happened to me,” Dean says with a grin.

“Wanna bet, Thomas?” Harry challenges.

“Sure,” Dean says. “And if I'm wrong, I'll read the _entire_ book Ms. Reynolds assigned us for over-the-summer homework.”

“You're on.”

\---

Hagrid and the Thomases end up taking Harry and Dean to Diagon Alley. After the revelation that both of their lads are wizards, the Thomases take things with remarkable aplomb. After all, to Claudia and Abraham, this is nothing compared to finding out their partner was a Queen of a magical kingdom for fifteen years. And to Susan, who _lived_ in Narnia, this is by far the craziest thing she's seen.

They enter Diagon Alley, and everything is so bright and magical and _weird_.

“We're really not that strange here,” Mr. Abraham says.

“No,” Ms. Claudia agrees, staring at a woman in purple robes holding the hand of another woman in silver, “We're not.”

 

Dean's mother, Claudia, raises an eyebrow at Hagrid’s melodramatic proclamations. “I'm not gonna call a genocidal dictator by anything but his name,” she says matter-of-factly.

When Hagrid says that there's not a wizard who went wrong who wasn't in Slytherin, Susan remembers Edmund. She remembers cunning and ambition used well, thinks of how she and Claudia have used power to work good in their own ways.

“I'll be proud of my lads no matter what house they end up in,” she says matter-of-factly, and both lads look up at her, smiling.

* * *

Harry puts the Sorting Hat on his head and thinks, _I want to be great, like Ms. Susan and Ms. Claudia. I want to make a difference. I want the power to help others, to make a difference-_

 _Ah,_ the Hat says, _Better be-_

 

Harry is sorted into Slytherin. Dean into Gryffindor.

This changes nothing between them.

They are still two lads who were unwelcomed until they found each other, who for one reason or another-the color of their skin, the identity of their parents- was bullied and teased by kids their own age. They are brothers, and brothers don't abandon each other over Houses.

 

Susan sends _congratulations_ and fairytales about Edmund the Just and Lucy the Valiant. Claudia writes about current events, about the Prime Minister and the Cold War. Abraham sends an extra pair of socks for the lads in blue and orange just to tease them.

 

During Quidditch matches, Dean wears a green scarf and a red hat.

Seamus stares at him a bit weird, but eventually just shrugs. “Long as you don't get any points taken from us in class,” he says.

Dean grins, showing the gap from the tooth he lost in a football match with Harry before school started. “Deal. After all, you lose us enough points anyway.”

Seamus slugs him in the arm and Dean laughs.

\---

Harry and Dean go to the library to do homework as neither house really will accept the other into their common room. They pull out scrolls and books, whispering answers and jokes to each other under their breath. A few hours into their second visit, they notice a newcomer.

A girl their age is hunched over in the corner, face buried in a book and shoulders hunched. Her characteristic bushy black hair is sticking in every direction, reminding Harry of Ms. Claudia when she's not wearing her weave. Harry thinks he recognizes her from the train, and he _knows_ her from Potions class. Hermione Granger, the brightest mind in Gryffindor.

“Hey,” he says to Dean, “You know Granger well?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not well. She tends to keep to herself.”

Harry stops and purses his lips. Both lads know what it’s like not to have friends, to be ostracized and bullied. They understand Hermione Granger’s love of books, of escaping to worlds other than this one.

“Let’s invite her over,” Dean says, reading Harry’s mind, and Harry nods.

\---

Harry catches a few of his dormmates using the word _mudblood_ to describe Dean and Hermione and immediately goes to the library to look it up. He can tell from their tones that it’s not a good thing, and what he finds shows him no different.

For Harry, who has been called _chee-chee_ and _Brownie_ all his life, has had to hear Claudia and Dean called _coon,_ has heard Abraham referred to as _kike_ , this is a no-go.

There are many ways to go about this. He _could_ threaten to skewer Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy with a spell, he _could_ rat them out to McGonagall (he might have gone to Snape, but the Potions Professor seems to _really_ hate him), or...

He could go about this in a way they’d appreciate.

 

A few days later, all of Harry’s roommates (save Blaise, who doesn’t use racial slurs, thank you very much) wake up only to find themselves with bright pink hair and only able to speak in rhymes. They will become laughingstocks around school if they don’t do anything, and to a Slytherin reputation is a very important thing.

After watching his roommates freak out for a few minutes, Harry holds up a small bottle of potion. “I’ve got the antidote right here,” he says, and they all turn and stare.

“You use slurs again,” Harry says, “I’ll douse your food again and smash the antidote, got it?” They all nod hurriedly and he tosses them the antidote.

Blaise raises an eyebrow as the other Slytherins grab for the potion. “Not bad, Potter.”

Harry smirks. “I learned from the best.” He doesn’t mention that the best is Ms. Claudia, who taught him from a young age how much politicians value their appearance, how if you want to take down a showman, a politician, then reputation goes first.

 

From then on, no Slytherin (at least the first-year lads) is caught using slurs. Though some may think about it, they have learned all too well the consequences of such.

(Minerva McGonagall wonders at how the rate of blood slurs has dropped. In all her years of teaching, no one could quite figure out how to get purebloods to stop with such nonsense. She suspects, or at least hopes, that this is an inside job, that someone in Slytherin taught kids to stop being so bigoted.)

 

When he writes to Ms. Susan, she laughs and thinks that Edmund probably would have done something all too similar given the chance.

\---

“Have you met Seamus?” Dean asks one day, pulling a lad up to the table where Harry and Hermione are sitting.

Hermione recognizes Seamus from all of her classes as one of the Gryffindor lads. Harry recognizes the lad who managed to explode a potion the first Potions class.

Harry smiles. “Sit down, Finnegan. We're doing Charms.”

Seamus groans. “Homework, Dean?”

Dean blinks. “What else, Shay?”

 

There is a troll, and four children battle it. A little lad with glasses, a girl with buck teeth, a lad who explodes things, and a lad who loves football. They use cleverness to take it down and don't put it down to just bravery; rather, they recognize the importance and value of cunning.

 

Harry sends owls home to the Thomases, and for winter break they send for him to spend Hanukkah with them. He boards the train with Dean, enchanted Christmas crackers in pocket and letters from Hermione and Seamus to the Thomases in hand.

 

He gives Mr. Abraham an owl he owl-ordered for, so that they could send messages to Dean and Harry without having to wait for one of the lads’ owls. He hands the receipt detailing a year's subscription the _Daily Prophet_ to Ms. Claudia. He gives Susan a small dagger, which is enchanted to stay sharp for much longer than usual. It’s supposed to be used for potions, but when he was in Diagon Alley and saw it he couldn’t help but think of Ms. Susan’s stories of Narnia.

(She loves it.)

He then gets a gift from each of the Thomases. Ballpoint pens from Ms. Claudia, who complains about the labor intensity of quills, more socks from Mr. Abraham, and a snowglobe from Ms. Susan. Dean gives him a drawing of Harry himself on a broomstick, as he has been Seeker since a small incident back in October involving Zachariah Smith and a Remembrall.

Then, from all of the Thomases: a children's book. Harry opens the pages and finds old drawings of Dean's, of lions and centaurs and glorious ships. In Mr. Abraham’s unmistakable penmanship, Ms. Susan's words scrawl across the page. The stitching on the cover that reads _The Chronicles of Narnia_ is Ms. Claudia’s.

Harry doesn't get to sit and stare at the book for too long, though, because the Thomases all tackle him and crush him in a giant group hug seconds after he turns the third page. He laughs and lets go.

(The Dursley's half-pence goes into the vacation fund piggy bank that the Thomases keep for the five of them to go on a trip. Harry finds it a fitting resting place for a gift from the family who really doesn't care about him.)

 

When it comes time to leave, the Thomases hand them small gifts for Seamus and Hermione- a football for Seamus, and two books for Hermione (a favorite law book of Ms. Susan's, and a book called _The Second Sex_ recommended by Ms. Claudia), and the lads give them the Finnegans’ and the Grangers’ contact info.

Ms. Susan takes them to the train station. She squats down next to them at Platform 9 ¾, ignoring the arthritic creaking of her knees, and looks them straight in the eye.

“Remember, lads,” she says, that confident half-smile of hers fixed on her lips, “You are not what those silly children say. You are more than what professors deem you and more than what your classmates say you are.

Do not let lions take what you love. Do not let snakes tempt you. You are both extraordinary, and Claudia, Abraham, and I love you.”

Harry exchanges a quick, bemused glance with Dean, but they both nod in agreement with Ms. Susan's speech. They were raised on tales of Narnia, of the importance of skepticism and belief in one's self. This is not the strangest speech they've heard from any of the Thomases.

“Thanks, Mum,” Dean says, hugging her.

“Yeah,” Harry says, taking the next hug. “Thanks, Ms. Susan.”

“No problem, lads,” she says, and slips a couple of chocolates out of her pockets. She hands one to each of the lads, who grin and grab them. “I love you. Go learn!”

They shout gratitude over their shoulders as they run for the train so they can head back to Hogwarts. The Express takes off with Susan still standing at the platform, watching her lads leave.

 

They never find the Mirror of Erised. By the time they get back to Hogwarts, the Mirror is deep in the room on the third-floor corridor.

But if they _had_ found the mirror, Harry would have seen the Thomases with his family. He would have seen Dean by his side, his parents behind him, Claudia at one shoulder and Susan and Abraham at the other.

 

Ron Weasley apologizes to Hermione for his mean comments in February, and she forgives him. All of her friends do (or at least they appear to. A week after the apology, Ron’s nose turns bright green at lunch. Seamus says, “That’s for Hermione. _Now_ your apology is accepted.”) as well.

Ron is folded into their little group, though his friendship with Harry, Dean, and Seamus is nowhere near as tight as his friendship with Hermione. He's a good friend for Harry, but not a very close one.

 

In the spring, Hermione, Dean, Harry, and Seamus accuse Snape of the theft. They discover Nicholas Flamel and Fluffy, help Hagrid with a dragon and get caught by Zachariah Smith, hunting around for troublemakers.

They end up in the woods with a dead unicorn and the ghost of the Dark Lord. Harry gets saved by a centaur and hugged by his best friends.

 

These kids are as young as Susan and her siblings were when they first discovered Narnia. With every owl she gets, she sees them growing in ways she remembers all too well.

 

In the third floor room, Harry flies on a broom. Seamus wins the chess match. Dean figures out the plants, and Hermione solves the potions riddle. Together, they make their way through things. They make do with the strengths they have.

When Harry faces the Mirror of Erised, he sees his own reflection drop the stone into his pocket. But he also sees all of his friends and family there, the Thomases and Potter's standing side by side behind him.

When he realizes his touch burns Voldemort, he goes in without thought to his own safety. This is necessary for what he wants to happen.

(Necessity looks like bravery sometimes.)

* * *

Harry barely spends a week each summer with the Dursleys before heading to the Thomases’. He attends Quidditch matches and football matches and court cases with the Thomases, sleeps in the guest room, and does his homework.

When Seamus visits and somehow manages to blow up Abraham’s petunias without any magic, Susan sees Peter. A leader, a reckless lad who could so easily become a soldier, a leader and an excellent worker under the right direction. Fair and smart, whether people realize it or not. Hufflepuff through and through.

Dean is Lucy, a Gryffindor who puts their faith into everything and runs headfirst into saving others. A healer above all else, who will sacrifice anything to help people. He falls in love with everything, his sketches detailing everything that people don't notice.

Harry is Edmund, cunning and clever and everything that could have been twisted but wasn’t. A lad who wants to make right by the world, who wants to take power and bend it to his own bidding. A hero who becomes such not by bravery, but through clever words and strategy.

When Hermione visits, Susan finds herself. Whip-smart and questioning everything save the rules she has built her life on, Hermione is just like Susan was before she became Queen.

Susan sees her family, and she wishes that these children won't have to witness the same destruction that she had to.

(Something deep in her heart knows otherwise.)

\---

For his birthday, Hagrid sends Harry a photo album by owl mail. In it, Harry finds photos of his parents’ wedding. He has to look up the names of the clothing in his childhood library, just down the street from the Thomases, but when he figures out what they are he sounds the words over and over until they no longer feel like words anymore. His mother is wearing a _saree_ , the red of her hair bright against the red of her dress _._ His father is wearing a _sherwani,_ his brown skin dark against the gold and red fabric _._

Ms. Claudia sits down next to him as he runs his fingers over the glossy moving photos of the album, skating over his parents’ laughing faces. “You look just like your father,” she says, “Though you have your mothers’ beautiful eyes.”

“Someday,” Harry says, “I’m gonna get married like them, and I’m gonna wear what my father’s wearing.”

“I'll be there for it,” she promises.

* * *

The four (sometimes five) friends eat meals at the Slytherin table, at the Gryffindor table. Harry tells the Slytherins to bugger off, to move over, to let Seamus, Dean, and Hermione (and sometimes Ron) sit down. Dean tells the Gryffindors to stop staring at Harry like he's a monster.

(To be honest, the Slytherins Harry's age are pretty used to Dean coming over. He has since the first day of first year. The rest of Harry's friends, though- that's the strange thing.)

\---

When the attacks start, Harry's heart seizes for both of his best friends. Both Muggleborns, they are vulnerable to the Heir’s plans. Seamus and Ron are safer, as is he.

When he sees Dean and Hermione, he always greets them with a hug.

 

When he is accused of being the Heir of Slytherin- because he _is_ in Slytherin this time, clever and ambitious, and a Parselmouth to boot- Dean stands up and threatens to curse anyone who touches Harry. Hermione volleys facts like blades and Seamus and Ron end up with more than one detention when they rope the Weasley twins into defending Harry's honor.

Even Draco Malfoy scoffs and says, “Potter's too good to be the Heir.”

 

Susan owls Mrs. Finnegan, who sends Howlers on her behalf. Claudia, Susan, Abraham, and the Grangers send owl after owl to try and protect the Muggleborns who _certainly_ aren’t being protected by the School’s Governors. Even when they get useless letters back from people with no intent to help, they keep trying.

(When Abraham finds out about Gilderoy Lockhart and his _horrible_ teaching, he gets truly angry for the first time since Dean and Harry can remember. Endangering students, not _teaching_ the correct curricula- a teacher who shows such disrespect for the profession is a sure way to get on Abraham's shit list. Lockhart has good company there- Snape and Quirrell are both there, though for different reasons.

Abraham's letters to the Governors are full of scathing complaints about Lockhart as well as pleas for protection for the kids. As a retired schoolteacher, he knows exactly where to hit an educational institution.)

 

Hermione gets petrified, but not before showing the lads her notes on how she thinks the monster was getting around.

\---

Ron’s little sister ends up in a cave made of bones, her skin bleached white by a ghost. Harry faces down the Heir of Slytherin, but this time he _is_ a Slytherin. There is green on both of their ties, silver on their socks.

But Harry knows that being a Slytherin doesn’t mean _the ends justify the means,_ doesn’t mean _power for power’s sake._ He’s grown up with two adoptive mothers who have chased their way into power, who have done it for the betterment of others. Ms. Susan wields her judicial ability to defend the weak; Ms. Claudia uses her legislative power to give power to those less fortunate, to take people out of poverty and into homes.

Being an orphan doesn’t make you lonely. Being a Slytherin doesn’t make you evil.

Harry doesn’t pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat. No- he goes searching and finds a long, rusted blade with one of the skeletons littering the floor and figures out how to lure the serpent out of hiding. Fawkes has already scratched out its eyes- Harry just has to get its weak spot. He figures that it has to be the inside of its mouth.

When he stabs the snake’s mouth, stabs the diary, he isn’t just killing a ghost of the man who killed his parents. He is killing the bad ideas of his House, cutting away the bigotry that he never wants to believe in.

Fawkes’ tears heal him as he’s dying, and Harry can’t help but see their silver color. _His_ house color.

Power doesn’t have to hurt; it can heal as well.

\---

When the Thomases find out that Harry has nearly died _again_ , they have different reactions. Abraham wants to bundle up Harry and never let anyone else hurt him. Claudia wants to call up every authority, demand accountability and safety for a young schoolboy.

Susan, who was Queen once, sees a lad groomed for slaughter. She sees a lad who had the potential to grow up bitter, who is so similar to Edmund in so many ways, who has become a hero whether or not he wanted to be one.

* * *

Harry can put up with a lot, but Aunt Marge calling his dad a _brownie_ and a _sand coon_ and his mother a _bitch_ is far too much.

When Marge blows up in front of his face, growing as large as the rage he feels toward her, he runs to the Thomases, scared that he's going to be expelled from Hogwarts and stripped of his magic. After Dobby showed up at the Thomases’ last summer, sent by someone (because a house elf never would have known that he spent half of his summer with the Thomases without help), he knows of the potential consequences.

He spends a few hours curled up in Mr. Abraham’s lap, crying about losing the world he loves.

Then, Cornelius Fudge himself turns up on their doorstep.

(Claudia nearly faints at the idea at being able to talk to the Minister of Magic himself, though by the end of the conversation she is sorely disappointed. The man is a spineless fool who doesn't deserve to be an MP, much less Minister.)

\---

Sometimes Susan wonders what might have happened if she and her lovers, she and her siblings, had been wizards and witches. If they had had a chance to be sorted, where would they have ended up?

* * *

When Remus Lupin wakes up on a train and sees a face far too familiar and far too young above him, he doesn’t judge the green around the child’s neck. He doesn’t speak of seeing the lad’s mother’s eyes, of seeing his father’s glasses.

He sees Harry as a reflection of nothing save his own decisions.

Remus gives a lad chocolate before teaching him how to conjure Patronuses and face boggarts, how to hold his own against fear itself. He takes a lad with a green tie and teaches him how to utilize his own strengths- cunning and ambition, cleverness and love- to fight. Remus knows what it’s like to not be what people expect, to not fit into his house and friends perfectly. Harry is not the lad he expected, but he _is_ the lad that Remus learns to love.

(Years later, when Susan Pevensie meets Remus for the first time, she thanks a god she doesn’t believe in that her lad met someone who would not just protect him, but respect him.)

\---

They are hanging out with Ron one day- the lad is _really_ funny, to be honest- playing chess, when his rat goes berserk. They chase the rat around, even getting really close to the Whomping Willow, before a Grim drags Ron down into the willow.

Dean, Ron, Hermione, and Harry end up in the Shrieking Shack with a tailless mouse, a weary Professor, and two men bent on revenge.

Ron’s leg is broken. Dean’s Muggle chess set, sent by Susan, is shattered. Hermione, Dean, and Harry form a protective barricade around Ron, trying to protect their friend from three rabid men.

And then the truth comes out.

\---

If someone were to ask Harry where home is, he might say Hogwarts, with pumpkin juice and twisting staircases and green-and-silver common rooms. He might mention libraries and Quidditch matches and ghosts.

He might say a bedroom in the back of a house, an old playroom converted to be his bedroom.

He would, however, probably say the Thomases’, with biscuits and newspapers and law books, with Mr. Abraham’s smile and Ms. Claudia’s words and Ms. Susan’s arrows, fired from the bow Dean got her from the Wizarding Sporting Goods store for her seventy-fifth birthday.

When Sirius offers him a home, Harry says, “You’ve gotta meet the Thomases. You’d love Ms. Susan- she’s had adventures just like you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want Sirius- _oh by Merlin_ does he want a family of his own, someone who loved him first. The Thomases aren’t any less than Sirius, but their love is different. Having Sirius in his life, along with them, would be nothing less than looking into the Mirror of Erised.

Sirius smiles. “I’d love that.”

 

Then Peter Pettigrew escapes, and Harry’s hope of his families (not the Dursleys, but the people who actually care about him) meeting is dashed.

\---

A large black dog shows up on the doorstep of the Thomases’ house a week before the lads are set to come home.

Claudia opens the door and looks at the giant black dog. “You must be Sirius,” she says, and gestures him in.

 

Claudia wins MP the day before the Hogwarts Express returns to Platform 9 ¾, just in time for the boys to get back. They tackle her with hugs and shriek congratulations, attracting the attention of the other families on the Platform.

Petunia Dursley, there at the Platform to pick Harry up for his week with the Dursleys before he heads to spend time with the Thomases, sniffs. “How improper,” she mutters, but doesn’t say anymore because the _freak_ family a few streets over has somehow gained an MP in their midst. Petunia is shrewd- she’s not going to pick a fight with people who have far more power than she does.

 

A week later, Harry shows up at the Thomases’ door as usual. Dean pulls him inside, grin brilliant, and is greeted by a dog.

The moment the door is closed, Harry shouts “Sirius!” and wraps the dog- now a man- in a hug.

“Prongslet,” Sirius says, and hugs him back.

* * *

Dean, Hermione, Harry, and Claudia go to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys and the Finnegans. They sit in the nosebleed seats and roar their support for the Irish team. Despite not knowing much about Quidditch, Claudia loves the game- between her boys stopping every couple of minutes to explain things to her, to chatting with the Weasleys and Finnegans about the kids, to peppering Mr. Weasley with questions about Magical government, there isn’t a dull moment.

 

That night, when Death Eaters invade the camp and send Muggles up into the air, Dean and Harry each make sure to grab one of Claudia’s hands and herd her with them into the forest.

Claudia, in turn, tries not to let her terror show on her face. She is completely useless here, and if her boys end up hurt because of her she’ll never forgive herself.

 

When Claudia, Harry, and Dean get back home, they have a giant sleepover, parents and Sirius included, for the first time since they were kids. They dig out a bunch of blankets and sleeping bags and cover the living room floor and pop in some movies and popcorn. It’s comforting to spend the night together, all these different generations together, and a far cry from the darkness and despair of the night before.

Sirius has spent the last thirteen years in a place where happiness meant insanity. To spend the night so freely with people he is growing to care about is a strange but wonderful experience. Watching _Star Wars_ is a strange thing for the pureblood wizard whose only exposure to the Muggle world was his best friend, but a welcome one.

(And getting to bond with Harry is the best part of it all. To see his godson getting so excited over something so mundane is an experience Sirius feared he would never get to have. And now, while they are in a period of relative safety, Sirius can love this boy with everything he deserves.)

Susan recognizes the look in Sirius’ eyes, the one that prisoners of war returned home with after wars with Calormen and the Southern Nations. She resolves to protect him as a member of her own family, a subject of her own little kingdom.

\---

Remus visits a few weeks before the end of the summer, having ended up between jobs again. When he and Sirius see each other, they hug for far longer than Susan suspects is platonic.

When she catches them speaking low in the kitchen the night before they're set to go to Diagon Alley, she pauses. She isn't too surprised when, a few moments later, Sirius leans in and presses a hesitant kiss to Remus’ cheek.

She then leaves them to their privacy. It's none of her business what they get up into their free time, even if she is incredibly satisfied that the gentle, lonely wolf and the rambunctious Animagus are finally healing.

* * *

Harry gets put into the Triwizard Tournament, and Zachariah Smith makes “Potter Stinks!” badges.

By the second day they’re out, they read something very different. Someone has enchanted them to say _Smith Stinks!_

Draco ‘fesses up to it within a few days.

“No one messes with a Slytherin like that,” he mutters to Harry at lunch. “Especially not my roommate. Looks bad.”

Harry grins. “You're not all bad, are you, Malfoy?”

Draco rolls his eyes. “You better not go telling anyone that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. That was a pretty impressive piece of magic you did.”

If Harry didn’t know better, he’d swear that Draco smiles, the corner of his lips lifting up.

\---

For the first task, Abraham, Claudia, and Susan are in the stands per Harry's dogged requests. If he's gonna be forced to participate in this mad game, then he wants his family there.

\---

When Rita Skeeter’s article about Hermione comes out, Susan goes straight into the library at Medea Finnegan’s house and reads as many books on Wizarding case law as she can. Then she writes out the paperwork for a suit for libel as well as one for a restraining order and has Medea Finnegan file it. She might have asked Arthur Weasley to do it, as a Ministry employee, but she knows of his standing amongst the more privileged members of the Wizarding community. His reputation as a quack is one that will hurt her suit, no matter how much she likes him. She wants her suit to carry weight if she wants to get rid of this Skeeter pest.

\---

Harry takes Dean as his date to the Yule Ball (the rules never said he couldn't bring his best friend), and Dean brings Seamus. Seamus would have brought Hermione, who would have brought Harry- the four of them have a rather peculiar sense of humor when put together- but Viktor Krum asks her and, well, it's _Viktor Krum._

They spend the night dancing and laughing, though of course they overhear things that they shouldn't. They are children full of fairytales and cleverness and stupidity. They will always stumble into things they shouldn’t.

\---

Harry finds Dean and Hermione under the lake, and he quickly figures out which one is supposed to be for him. Viktor Krum doesn't have many people in this country, much less in Hogwarts, so his Yule Ball date will have to suffice for “the one you would sorely miss.” And Dean _is_ Harry's best friend, so that one is quite easy to deduce.

He doesn't stay to save Gabrielle or Cho Chang. He knows that the Ministry of Magic would never put innocent civilians at risk, even if it doesn't care if the contestants live.

When they break the surface of the water, Dean grabs Harry's shoulders and hugs him.

“You won the bloody task!” he shouts, and Harry laughs as they swim toward the docks where the judges, Headmasters, and Thomases are waiting. Abraham looks kind of worried, Claudia proud, and Susan smug.

\---

Sirius sends letters from the Professor’s Mansion, where he and Remus are staying. He sends them in code, but his happiness is unmistakable even when he’s fretting over the Tournament. Apparently, he and Remus are reconnecting and their relationship is recovering well from the thirteen year separation.

Remus sends letters as well, though through a different owl at different times. He is settling in well as well, and the money that the Thomases give him converts to enough money to buy Wolfsbane.

Harry has never been a cried, but when he holds letters from the godfathers he never thought existed, the backs of his eyes burn a little. Here is the family that was stolen from him and from each other for thirteen years, who are outcasts and ostracized from society like Harry and the Thomases. They are _happy_ , just as the Thomases made him, and they love him.

(Also, Sirius and Ms. Claudia have been developing a very frightening friendship. They seem to be on the same wavelength on literally _everything._

Harry is actually kind of scared of the idea of one of the greatest pranksters in Hogwarts history and an impossible MP teaming up.)

\---

Cedric dies in a graveyard, in the shadows of a mansion that looks far too much like the Professor's for comfort, and the Thomases and Sirius in the form of a Grim greet Harry when he wakes up in the infirmary. He leans on Dean's shoulder, hand tight in Sirius’ fur, as he explains what he saw in the graveyard, in a small tower room with a Professor he thought he trusted.

\---

Draco Malfoy catches Harry in the hallway of the train. “I believe you, Potter,” he says, and Harry can detect the undertone of nervousness to his roommate's voice.

Harry looks at the boy who has never been afraid to stand up to him, to sneer and call Harry out on any mistakes he makes. He sees the boy who says _my father will hear about this_ as a threat, yet flinches whenever an owl from his father arrives. He sees a boy who is never kind, never soft, yet defended Harry from Heir of Slytherin claims and _Potter Stinks_ remarks.

“Thank you,” Harry says, and purses his lips. Then, because he recognizes something in Draco, he asks: “Is there anything I can do for you? You seem a bit...off.”

Draco’s face instantly shuts down. Harry nearly curses himself- he knows about Draco’s fear of showing weakness. “Nothing you can do, Potter.”

“I’m here for you, Malfoy,” Harry says. “If you ever want to talk to someone, just owl me.”

Draco stares at him for a minute. “See you next year, Potter,” he says, and walks past Harry.

* * *

Grimmauld Place opens up and Abraham is at Molly’s side for the detox. Susan and Arthur are furiously debating laws, and, well, Claudia and Sirius’ unholy friendship is still going strong.

(Harry actually thinks that if they just unleashed Claudia and Sirius on the Death Eaters, they could win easily. The 77-year-old impossible MP and the 35-year-old Animagus are insane together.)

 

Mad-Eye Moody tries telling them that this isn’t a war for Muggles, that they’ll just get themselves badly hurt.

And Abraham, soft Abraham, looks him dead in the eye. “Those are our children in there,” he says, pointing to the the kids all gathered in the living room around a game of Wizard’s chess. “And this is our world. If we didn’t fight, then we couldn’t live with ourselves.”

“And besides,” Claudia says with a sly smile, “We might just have a few tricks up our sleeves. Just you watch.”

Susan stares at her partners and her children. She thinks about the randomness of magic and the way that war seems to follow her wherever she goes, whether to London or Cair Paravel or Grimmauld Place.

 

Harry sometimes catches Sirius staring at photos of his family. No, not staring- _glaring_. And Harry remembers how happy Sirius was throughout last year, living in a mansion he didn’t grow up in and alone time with a best friend who loved him. Now, he is stuck in the house he grew up in, (was _abused_ in), unable to leave, with people crowding him and an army overtaking his house.

In turn, he drags Sirius away from nightmares and panic attacks and into movie marathons with Harry’s friends and Remus. _Star Wars_ is their go-to, but _Breakfast Club_ is a close second.

Harry tries to give Sirius what the Thomases gave him- love and happiness.

 

Sirius and Claudia become friends with a young woman named Nymphadora Tonks, a Hufflepuff woman who has dragged her Ravenclaw girlfriend Henrietta along with her. The three of them expand the founding unholy friendship into a hellish power trio, planning out guerilla attacks on Death Eaters and combining Muggle political power with wizarding pranks and Metamorphmagus disguise to create a WMD of cunning.

Harry sometimes wonders at how a Gryffindor, a Hufflepuff, and a Ravenclaw (as Claudia surely is, wise and honest and integrous) came to act so like Slytherins.

* * *

Hermione and Dean get letters naming them Prefect, while Ron gets named Quidditch Captain. Harry receives a similar privilege over in Slytherin. When they get to Hogwarts, they find that Draco and Pansy have gotten named Slytherin prefects. Harry congratulates the two of them. He's happy that they have the positions. Though he may 

\---

When Umbridge comes, she zeroes in on Harry and Hermione and Dean. As the so-called “Silver Trio,” they are the most vocal defenders of the claim that Voldemort is back.

They end up in detention, carving words like _I will not tell lies_ into the backs of their hands. Hermione and Dean refuse to shut up, to be quiet, while Harry tries to figure out more clever ways to get past Umbridge.

 

Then the idea hits him in the middle of DADA one day, and for the first time that year he actually enjoys the class.

(Turns out that the idea of undermining Umbridge right under her nose is a satisfying one.)

 

The DA forms and Ron helps helm it, having more trust and pull with the Gryffindors than Harry does. Muggleborns and Half-bloods alike view Harry wit suspicion, despite his best friends being Muggleborns, despite his title as the Boy Who Lived. He’s a Slytherin, carrying the colours of most of Britain’s most infamous Pureblood bigots.

Ron, however, makes a great leader. With the help of Hermione and his own innate talents, Ron’s become stronger. Still gangly but now far more self-assured, the Weasley boy has gone from the reckless side of Gryffindor to the more ideal version: more heroic, more self-sacrificing.

 

A side arm to the DA springs up in the Slytherin dorms. In the middle of the night, Harry teaches whatever Slytherins are willing how to conjure Patronuses. Little girls like Astoria Greengrass, braids swinging, learn side by side with older ones like Millicent Bulstrode. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott snipe at each others’ efforts, though Harry is proud to see that they _do_ help each other out when needed.

Even Pansy Parkinson, on the darkest nights of the year, eyes Harry suspiciously but attempts certain spells.

(In private, he teaches Draco Malfoy. Draco has a hard time finding a happy memory, but as the year goes on, as the Inquisitorial Squad gets more powerful and Umbridge stricter, Draco’s Patronus begins to form. Harry can’t be sure where exactly it comes from, but he’d like to believe that it’s because of their time together.)

\---

When sending letters this year, the boys censor their...extracurricular activities. With the ministry checking owls and them doing things that aren't entirely legal, it wouldn't be smart to let their family know what's going on.

(Which means they can't get the usual advice from Susan. They're on their own.)

\---

Half way through fifth year, Dean flops onto Harry's bed in the Slytherin dorms. None of Harry's roommates even bat an eye, having gotten used to Dean's presence over the years. “I think I'm falling in love with my best friend,” he groans.

Harry looks up from his plans for the DA. “I thought _I_ was your best friend.”

Dean waves a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean.” Harry chucks his pillow at his friend's head and Dean catches it in his hands.

Across the room, Blaise Zabini snorts. “You know that you can use a _spell_ to get him back, right, Potter?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “The Muggle way’s way more fun.”

 

During a Quidditch match with Hufflepuff, a roar goes up in the Gryffindor stands. Harry risks a glance at that section of the spectators, trying to figure out what the uproar is for, and catches Dean and Seamus snogging in the middle of the stands. He grins, happy for his best friend after everything serious that's been happening this year.

Draco zooms by, the Quaffle in hand. “Focus on the game, Potter!” he shouts, and Harry zooms after him and toward the Snitch.

(He does catch, however, the smallest of smiles on Draco's face. It seems like five years of Dean crashing Slytherin stuff has endeared him to the Slytherins more than they've realized.)

\---

Susan participates in training sessions for the Order. She catalogues how each spell is fired, what movements can create what effects. She compares the strength of a Stunning Spell to an arrow, runs through the battle plans of the Order. She points out flaws in their plans, and at first they ignore her, but when she gets everything right they start to listen to her.

Nostalgia of a kind she hasn’t felt in ages wells up in her. She has not been Queen in decades, has not _wanted_ to be Queen in decades, but right now, planning strategies and plotting raids, is just like what she used to do in Narnia.

\---

Draco Malfoy is the one who warns the DA about Umbridge’s approach. A non-corporeal Patronus shows up during a session and hisses in a garbled tone, _Run, you fools! Umbridge is on her way!_

That night, long after Dumbledore disappears and everyone goes to sleep, Harry pads across the dorm floor and over to Draco’s bed. The curtains around his bed are closed, as always, but Harry silently parts the curtains and slips onto the bed next to the star member of the Inquisitorial Squad. He casts a quick _Muffliato_ so that no one else can hear their conversations. Even as close as Harry’s become with some of his dormmates, Slytherin is still the house where secrets are worth their weight in gold.

Draco stares him down. “What do you want, Potter?” he asks.

“Thank you,” Harry whispers, “You saved a lot of us today.”

Draco’s face slips slightly, betraying his anxiety. “You have no proof.”

“I recognized the shape. Your Patroni are always slightly lopsided, almost like a peanut. Don’t worry- no one else will realize. They haven't spent as much time training with you.”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “Cocky, Potter, aren't you?”

Harry smirks. “Only as cocky as you, Malfoy.”

\---

There are nightmares and Patroni, pranks and a desperate flight into the bowels of the Ministry.

There, Dean, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Millicent face Death Eaters, small hands clutching at wands and throwing desperate spells. There, they nearly die.

There, Sirius _does_ die.

 

By the end of the year, Sirius is dead and there is only one loyal Marauder left.

Susan knows how Remus feels. She understands how it feels to be the last one left, to be the only one alive in their world. On good days, she lets her hair down, gray streaks and all. On bad days or court days, her hair goes up in a strict bun. She has learned control in the years since it was ripped from her fingers, leaving her lost in a prepubescent body on the wrong side of a wardrobe.

She sits down next to Remus in the library of Grimmauld Place. “You didn’t fail,” she says softly, trying to channel both Abraham and her own title as the Gentle. “You need to remember that it _wasn’t your fault_.”

Remus looks up at her with weary eyes. The full moon was just a couple of days ago, she remembers. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” he says, and she nods.

“A long time ago, I lost my family.” _My Kingdom, my friends, my entire world._ “For decades I’ve been the only one left. I know what survivor's’ guilt feels like.”

“I’ve been feeling that for a long time, you know,” the werewolf tells her, and she remembers that the night Harry lost his parents Sirius lost two of his best friends. No, _more_ than that- he lost his lover to Azkaban and lies, that damned Peter Pettigrew to perceived death.

“Tell me about it,” Susan says, and leans back in her chair. “I’m here to listen.”

Gentle people do not just arrive in the world, already made like they are. Gentle people like her and Remus Lupin are _made_ the way they are by a world that tells them that they can't be like that- they _choose_ to be kind everyday that the world is not.

If you try to fight people like them, then you inevitably lose. Maybe not now, maybe not even soon, but at some point down the road you will. Because Gentle people are not soft- they choose to fall in love with people who will die on them, choose to give a young boy chocolate and a home no matter how much he reminds them of what they've lost.

Gentle people have a core of steel, a heart that can take blow after blow and still remain standing.

\---

Harry slumps onto his bed in the Slytherin dorms. He feels drained of energy, almost like he just wants to melt into the bed and fade away.

Sirius is gone. Neville could have been the Chosen One. His parents could still be alive. Neville’s could be sane.

Nothing had to turn out this way. All of this was a decision Voldemort made when he heard a snatch of a prophecy.

This was all _pointless_.

His mind drifts over those he still has left, and he alights on one of his adoptive mothers.

Harry remembers Susan's stories of everyone she lost to sieges and battles, to disease and frost and desert storms, all because of a prophecy made before she arrived in a world she would save. He remembers how she watched the slaughter of a lion, rode into battle with a weapon made of the wishes of others.

As he tells his best friends everything, trusts them with the truth, he remembers Ms. Susan and a war sixty years ago and a thousand years away.

* * *

Harry's sixth year, his crush on Draco Malfoy is finally realized. In the back of a dorm room, Draco reveals the brand he was forced to take. As Draco whispers that his mother is being held hostage, that she’ll be horribly tortured and killed if he doesn’t do the Dark Lord’s bidding, Harry stares at the wrist that he’s seen so many times over the past six years, previously pale skin marred by scarred black flesh.

“I don’t know what to do,” Draco admits, and Harry swallows.

“Alright,” he says, “Lemme help you. Hermione and Dean and I can get people to rescue your mom before everything goes down, if you just say the word.”

Draco swallows. “Maybe I will, Potter.”

Draco looks at him and, as everything tends to do with Harry Potter, he has a horribly timed revelation: _I really want to kiss Draco Malfoy._

Oh, bloody hell.

 

Hermione snogs Ron Weasley in front of the entire school after he survives a major fall in a Quidditch game. When they break apart, both are blushing but grinning.

(This may have to do with the fact that the entire Gryffindor section is on their feet cheering. And Harry’s on his broom cheering. And like half of the teachers, to be completely honest.)

 

In a Quidditch locker room after a particularly intense game with the Ravenclaws, Draco presses a kiss to Harry’s lips. This devolves into heavy snogging which ends with their fingers entwined.

“Potter,” Draco says hoarsely, and then swallows. “ _Harry."_

There are so many scars between them, lightning bolts and dark snakes and _I will not tell lies._ But Harry likes to think that, at least for this moment, their scars fit together. _They_ fit together. Serpents raised by abusive families who somehow found friends where hope seemed lost.

He grins. “Draco Malfoy,” he says, and leans in for another kiss. They continue snogging for a few more moments before-

Harry leans back from the kiss. “You sent Dobby second year, didn’t you?”

Draco groans but stops trying to kiss Harry. “Couldn’t we talk about this _after_ snogging?”

Harry kind of likes the fact that _his_ kisses can make Draco crave kisses this much, but he wants to know. “Seriously, Draco,” he says, “I’ve always wondered. Dobby couldn’t have known about me spending time at the Thomases without someone deliberately telling him. Not even _Snape_ knew I spend most of the summer at Dean’s. Only my best friends- Hermione, Ron, Seamus- and the Slytherin boys knew that I spent the summer there before the Thomases came to the Triwizard Tournament.”

Draco breathes out a slightly irritated sigh through his nostrils. “Yeah, I did. I knew that you had a home outside of Hogwarts, and I knew that my father had some plan for the year that didn’t bode well for you. If you ended up gravely injured, then I would have felt guilty for it.” He pauses, and then asks: “That good?”

Harry shrugs. “Good enough for me.”

“Can we snog now?” Draco asks, and Harry grins.

“Of course.”

 

When all of this comes out at dinner a few days later, Dean laughs and says, “Glad I found a boyfriend ages ago. Y'all’s drama is too much.”

Hermione and Harry each punch him in the arm.

“You were kind of asking for that, Thomas,” Blaise comments, not having even heard about who Harry is dating. _Good._ Harry trusts Blaise, he really does (Especially for the serpents in his house), but if him and Draco dating somehow gets back to Voldemort...

Dean, rubbing at his arm, shrugs. “That’s how they show they love me.”

\---

Dean shoots up in height, towering over his friends. In Harry’s opinion, this only make him and Seamus _more_ adorable as either Dean has to lean over to press a kiss to Seamus’s lips or Seamus has to stand on his tiptoes to kiss Dean.

\---

When it comes time for Hanukkah to begin, Harry drags Draco down to the Room of Requirement to celebrate with the rest of them. He protests just slightly to begin with, something about muggles, up until Harry looks him dead in the eye and says, “It's tradition, and this is my family. You’re either in, or out.”

They enter the Room and find Seamus and Dean playing Exploding Snap on the rug in front of a grand fireplace, Hermione and Ron perched on the lovechair passionately discussing something or other. A Christmas tree is set up in the corner of the grand living room, while the Menorah stands on the long table.

Dean sees them first and says, “Harry! Malfoy! You're here!”

Draco's grip on Harry's hand tightens just slightly as everyone else turns to face them. “Um, hi?”

Hermione gestures them forward. "We're about to recite the blessings. The first might is both the  _shehecheyanu_ and the _brachot_ prayers."

"Then we'll light the candles and exchange the first night's gift," Dean explains. 

Though this is Draco's first Hanukkah with them, he doesn't spend too long on awkwardness. He asks pointed questions to Harry at convienent juncture, not wanting to seem uninformed. Harry happily supplies these answers, not wanting his boyfriend to be ignorant. Knowledge is power, after all.

They share biscuits and socks sent by Abraham, news clippings and pens sent by Claudia, and letters and a chess game sent by Susan. Mrs. Weasley sent scarves and sweaters, while the Grangers sent toothbrushes and Medea Finnegan sent pepper up potions. The gifts form a small pile, shared by all.

(Draco, whose family is Death Eaters, and Harry, who is an orphan, cannot contribute much save themselves.)

\---

A headmaster tells Harry that his duty is to save others’ lives, to be a hero.

Susan knows what it's like for an old, ‘wise’ man to tell you what a hero is like, to prescribe the life that he thinks you should live. She knows what it’s like to feel like you have to listen, because you are the lone survivor, the only remaining hero.

She has learnt since, though, that she _doesn’t_ have to listen. She doesn't have to be the hero he wants her to be, if that means giving up everything that makes her the woman she is.

She writes to Harry, sending words of assurance alongside words of suspicion. She reminds him that he is a Slytherin, that _constant vigilance_ is not just words, that decades ago she was Queen but she never trusted Aslan without reservation.

When Harry enters the Pensieve, learns about Horcruxes, he keeps her warnings at the back of his brain. He has been taught not to believe in thoughtless gods, and he will not start making that mistake now.

\---

There is a bathroom, and there is blood.

Harry and Draco are snogging in the upstairs boys’ bathroom after Potions class, fingers entangled in each others' hair, when they hear a gasp behind them.

“You’re dating  _him,"_ Zachariah Smith gasps, and Harry can't be sure who the Hufflepuff is referring to, but either way the tone is a disgusted one.

Draco withdraws his wand, anxiety over someone finding out about them running through his veins. With everything that's going on, he's always on edge.

Zachariah’s trembling hand shoots up and he shouts, “ _Sectumsempra!”_ Draco’s side opens up, blood spraying all over Harry and Draco. Draco collapses into Harry and Harry screams. Zachariah runs out of the room, screaming for help.

Harry holds his boyfriend on his lap, casting spell after useless spell trying to get the bleeding to stop. Soon enough- in what feels like far too long- the head of Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall, shows up. She begins casting spells at the speed of sound, and unlike Harry’s they seem to be helping. Soon enough Harry can breathe as Draco falls unconscious, his helpless sobs falling into silence.

 _Oh Merlin,_ Harry thinks, _If he dies..._

Draco can't die. He just _can't_. 

(On the ground near the door, Zachariah Smith drops a copy of _Advanced Potions.)_

 

All the Slytherin sixth years end up in the infirmary to visit Draco at some point, so Harry visiting him isn't the strangest thing in the world especially if you consider Harry's cover story of having ducked out to restroom at the same time as Draco and having been there when it happened.

Once Draco has stabilized and Harry’s brain has calmed down, he thinks about Narnia and the tales that Susan told him. He remembers failed assassinations and Edmund lying dying on a field in Beruna.

He thinks of Edmund and Peter, his father and godfathers, Draco and him. He thinks of Susan's tone of quiet wistfulness, of rash decisions and bloodied hands.

“We were just boys,” he whispers.

\---

In the dark of night near the end of April, Narcissa Malfoy takes a walk to the edge of Malfoy Manor’s gardens and vanishes from sight. The Dark Lord rages for days, but when Draco returns to the Manor for the summer his life is the only thing the Dark Lord holds captive. If Draco can escape without losing his life, then he’ll be free.

(His father’s life doesn’t mean much to him anymore.)

 

Susan Pevensie brings home a guest to the Professor’s Mansion. Narcissa Malfoy, matriarch of one of the most bigoted Pureblood lines of the age, takes one look around the Mansion and purses her lips.

“You need to clean up around here,” she says, and Abraham smiles.

“You’re welcome to help. I hear that wand can be good for things like that. In the meantime, would you like some tea?”

Narcissa stares at this man, old in the way that Muggles get so quickly, and makes a decision. She’s in a far different world than the one she has inhabited for over forty years, and she has to learn how to make it until she can see her son again. She knows she’ll need an ally for that- she wasn’t in Slytherin for nothing, after all.

She nods. “Sounds good.”

(And despite herself, it does.)

\---

Dumbledore dies, and with him most of the Order’s hope.

But not Harry's. He has never set all of his trust in the man, and he knows what he has to do. He knows the strengths of his friends, knows what four children can do with just a little help from the outside. And he _has_ help. He has knowledge of the Horcruxes, the wands of skilled soldiers, the cunning of his house, the lessons of a Queen. He has all the tools he'll need to win this war.

He can't give up, and he won't.

* * *

When it comes to seventh year, to war, to a time on the run, the Thomases’ house in Surrey and the Professor's mansion (technically owned by Susan, by virtue of the old man's will) become safe houses. Susan gets Seamus’ mom and the Order of the Phoenix to help enchant the buildings, then uses the rest of her time to draw up plans for spying and fighting. She becomes the Order’s de facto strategist.

(For the first time since she was left here in England, she wishes that she had Edmund in this world. He was the strategist, the Great Diplomat and chessmaster. As good as she is, he was far better. He could turn a battle around with a single word, a single pen stroke. She was far better in the fray.)

Claudia uses her powers as MP to sign off on papers for people who need to travel. Abraham bakes biscuits for the lost and covers them in blankets.

(Narcissa is reluctant at first, but when a little orphaned wizard, no more than six years old, shows up at the doorstep, she realizes that she cannot wait this one out. She helps the youngest, the oldest, the most vulnerable, find back guest rooms in the Professor’s Mansion. She tells stories to the youngest, uses hands unused to labor to ferry those with walkers and strollers around the house. Her tongue is as whip-smart as always, but she uses it for good rather than evil.)

The Thomases all lived through war before. They remember bombs exploding over top of houses, of clutching siblings and cats and photos. The war that led to a show off between Dumbledore and Grindelwald in the Wizarding World wreaked just as much havoc in the Muggle one.

Susan remembers another war, long ago and a world away, where she fired off arrows and directed entire armies.

(In truth, Susan Pevensie is nearly as old as Dumbledore was. She has nearly a hundred years of memories in her head.)

 

When they send their son off into battle, into a search that seems near hopeless, Susan, Abraham, and Claudia do their best to help him as much as they can. They bring war onto their doorsteps and into their homes, inviting the runaways and fugitives in. These people may not be from the same world as them, but they are survivors just like them.

\---

Hermione and Dean say hurried goodbyes to their boyfriends at the Weasley wedding before Apparating away when the Death Eaters strike. Harry doesn't get to speak to Draco as he is stuck at Malfoy Manor, held there until his father gives the okay to send him to school with the Carrows.

As Dean, Hermione, and Harry end up scraping their way through the English countryside, searching for Horcruxes and Hallows alike, their boyfriends take charge back at Hogwarts, helping in every way they can.

Ron becomes a General. Draco hides lost kids in the Room of Requirement, becoming a spy for the Resistance before getting snatched by his Aunt. Seamus spies and runs and steals food, utilizing his Slytherin and Hufflepuff tendencies to help as much as he can.

And, by their side, Slytherins help. Astoria Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode spy for the Resistance while Theo Nott works with a few Ravenclaws- Sue Li, Terry Boot- to develop spells to dampen the effects of the Carrows’ punishments. Blaise Zabini helps Ginny, Ron, and Seamus formulate battle plans, helps map out the changing halls of Hogwarts as best as possible.

Even Pansy Parkinson sometimes sneaks treats to firsties, tries to hold out hope. Somewhere in the six years Harry Potter went to class with her, her fear of the unknown, of everything her parents warned about, shifted. By wartime, she is nowhere near a member of the Resistance, but whispers of Harry Potter and his friends cause her to clench her fist in bitter hope rather than hatred.

\---

The Silver Trio hunts down Horcruxes as best they can, travelling throughout England.

 

All the while, they pass through graveyards. When they pass through Godric’s Hollow, chasing a slim lead about a Horcrux connected to Gryffindor, they stop for a few seconds by Harry’s parents’ tombstones.

Harry thinks about Ms. Susan, about how she never got to bury her siblings. When they died, they died in Narnia. She’ll never know what happened to them.

If this goes wrong, she’ll have to bury her sons. But will she even know where the bodies are?

 

Dean recites prayers every Friday night, and sometimes Harry and Hermione join in. On Yom Kippur, Dean goes to both of them and apologizes for everything he's done wrong in the past year.

For Hanukkah and Christmas, they each give each other small gifts. Dean gives them drawings of them and their partners- Hermione and Ron curled up on a sofa in Gryffindor Common Room, Harry and Draco flying on brooms through the sky. Hermione gives them books that she'd snatched out of a muggle bookstore at one of their quick food runs- _The Hobbit_ for Harry, and _Football Teams of Northern Britain_ for Dean. Harry bakes them biscuits eight days in a row, making all of Mr. Abraham's recipes that he can remember (more than a few get burned).

In times of despair, of desperation and fear, Dean makes use of what he can to keep him going. His father's faith, his photos of Seamus, the support of his friends- this means a lot.

 

On a particularly dark night when Voldemort’s locket is pulling quite heavily on the three of their hearts, Harry digs out his old copy of _The Chronicles of Narnia,_ the book that the Thomases gave him for Hanukkah his first year. The three of them gather in the middle of tent, lanterns on the ground and the book between them. They turn the pages slowly, reciting well-worn tales that Ms. Susan has shared with them for years.

They make of their world what they can as they fight to save it.

They are no strangers to the power of trios.

\---

Sometimes, on the darkest nights, Susan will slump down in Abraham's almost eternally empty chair. He is busy sheltering the vulnerable at the Mansion, and she is busy coordinating things at their home in Surrey. Claudia has the freedom to move between, but they don't.

“They are just _children!”_ she'll want to scream. “ _We_ were just children. Why the hell would you ask so much of us?”

Her resentment toward Aslan has mellowed over the decades, but she has never forgotten what it felt like to have her kingdom ripped away from her. She doesn't want the same thing to happen to her son's.

She _can't_ let it happen to her sons.

(She may have made her life her own, built a small kingdom of broken parts to rival Narnia, but if this world's gods are as cruel as the last- and it sure seems to be now- then what shall she do? She can do nothing but-)

_No._

She will fight as best she can, with every weapon at her disposal. She shall swear at thoughtless gods, pray to no one but herself.

Her children are just that, but so was she. All of these schoolboys and girls are the same age as she was when she fought with armies, led charges against desert countries and sieges against stone castles.

This never should have happened, but she can't change the past. Susan recognizes this.

Susan Pevensie is a Queen, but she is a mother and a lawyer and a lover more. She knows who and what to put her faith in, and-

_She believes in them._

\---

When they arrive at Malfoy Manor, Draco’s hands are shaking. When Harry sees his boyfriend for the first time in months, only the reminder of Dean and Hermione’s safety keeps Harry from jumping up and kissing him.

 

They escape to the Professor's Mansion, where they find Abraham Miller waiting with open arms. He scoops each kid- Hermione, Dean, Harry, Draco, and Luna- into a hug in turn. He fusses over scars and scrawny limbs, helps Griphook and Ollivander into beds.

Then he sits down at the main table with all the kids (kids no longer, save Luna- all of the their birthdays came and went during the war. His boys are adults now). Draco and Harry are holding hands under the table, while Dean's boots are propped up on Harry's legs like old times. Hermione has a book from the Professor's library on the table in front of her while Luna has a pile of biscuits that she's slowly picking all the chocolate chips out of.

Abraham hands out mugs of tea. “Your mothers miss you,” he tells Dean.

Dean doesn't cry. “I do too,” he says, “But we have to get the last few Horcruxes.”

Abraham sees Susan's laser sharp focus, Claudia’s stubbornness, in Dean's stance. The reminder of his partners is a sobering thought. He hasn’t seen Susan in at least three months, and Claudia in one- running the Mansion with Narcissa’s help has taken up too much of his attention.

Speaking of which…

“And you must be Draco,” Abraham says, turning to the boy holding hands with Harry. “I've been hearing stories about you for ages.”

Draco flushes as he realizes that in addition to being Dean's father, this Muggle must be the father figure that Harry always speaks of. This is the man that Harry holds up as one of his three main role models.

Staring at Abraham now, Draco realizes that this soft muggle, this man without a drop of magic in his veins, is one of the most special people in the world to Harry. He must be a man worth knowing.

He tries to find the proper words to say, but for the first time in his life his grace fails him. “Your biscuits are even better warm,” are the awkward words that come out, loosened by the comfort of Harry's hand and warmth of Abraham's smile.

“Why thank you, young man,” Abraham says, and he waits for Draco to set down his mug of scalding tea before asking, “Now, I suspect you would like to see your mother?”

Draco’s jaw drops, and Abraham can see his fingers go white-knuckled around Harry’s. “My mother is here?”

“She’s asleep right now, but yes, she is.”

Draco slumps back. “When I returned to the manor during the summer and she wasn’t there, I thought...but I couldn’t be sure…”

Harry gives his boyfriend a slight smile. “She's safe. You wanna talk to her?”

 

Later on that night, while Hermione and Luna have buried themselves in the library and Draco is visiting his mother, Harry and Dean stand in front of an old room that they’ve only visited a couple of times in their life. Inside, there is portal to another land, to legends and fairytales and hope.

“You gonna go see the Wardrobe?” Harry asks.

“Might as well,” Dean says, and pushes open the door.

\---

When it comes time for the Battle of Hogwarts, a nearly eighty year old Susan pulls out the enchanted bow and arrow given to her by Dean for her seventy-fifth birthday and has one of the wizards hiding in her house (a young woman by the name of Nymphadora Tonks) Apparate her and Claudia into Hogsmeade. Claudia and Susan have already helped plan out battle strategies and castle maps- when they emerge from the tunnel in the Room of Requirement, they wade into the fray, taking down Death Eaters.

Claudia is armed with Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes products and a wealth of Wizarding weaknesses as pointed out to her by Order members who had lived with them.

Abraham convinces Narcissa to Apparate him close enough to the battle to hike in. He then makes himself a healer, helping move and patch up wounded bodies. Adrenaline overcomes arthritis, if only briefly, and he runs all over the place, helping and healing and never turning away from the problem, no matter how dire. He comforts the wounded and the dying, the children lost and the families broken apart.

This is their war as much as it is their sons’.

 

When Claudia’s body is found among the dead at the pause in the Battle, Susan nods grimly. “She went out the way he would have wanted to,” she says, but clutches Abraham close.

Dean stares at his mother's body, at the spell mark burned across her ribs, and reaches for his father’s hand.

Harry sees Ms. Claudia, who spoke loud words and waved protest signs and who always had a mug of tea and a newspaper ready for Harry when he came over. He feels fury like he has never known. When Sirius died, there was no body for the man he had only known for two years. When Dumbledore died, he had Ms. Susan's suspicions and _lamb to the slaughter_ ringing through his head. When Snape died- well, why would he care then? The man was nothing more than his abuser- and so many others’- for _years_.

But this- this is the woman who practically raised him, who fed him biscuits and made sure to keep news clippings for him and invited him to Labour meetings, even when he was a little kid. Claudia Thomas was the woman who tucked him into bed on bad nights, who always encouraged him to be better. This is the woman who, when told that she was a Muggle and didn't have to fight, declared that this was her children's war and therefore hers.

Harry watches his family break around him, clutching at bows and wands and tubs of first aid. He sees Dean and Abraham and Susan holding onto each other, trying their best not to cry.

He swallows, turns, and runs.

\---

When Harry turns the Resurrection Stone, he sees his parents, and Sirius, and Remus, but he also sees Claudia. He sees Dean's mom, one of the two women who basically raised him.

Lily and James promise they love him. Remus and Sirius promise Harry that his friends- and his boyfriend- will forgive him for leaving them behind.

Claudia bends down slightly to look Harry straight in the eyes. Harry, in these last moments, is struck by how much Dean looks like his mother, how he got his insane height from Claudia.

“You’re my son just as much Dean, Harry. I don’t want you to die, but if you believe this is the right answer, then I’ll believe you. Just, promise me something, alright?”

Harry nods. “What, ma’am?”

Claudia smiles grimly. “Give ‘em hell, biscuit. Take down that putrid man and don’t let him hurt anyone else.”

“I promise,” Harry says, and means it. He won't let her and everyone else in this war die in vain. He won't let his _parents_ die in vain. He will bring them justice.

“And if you somehow survive, tell my family I love them?” Harry nods, and Claudia’s small, grim smile transforms into a grin. “And that I got to meet Clement Atlee?”

Despite everything, despite impending death and Voldemort and a war that Harry never wanted, the joke lifts the corners of his lips into a smile. “Yes, ma'am. I'll tell ‘em.” Despite the fact that he won't live long enough to tell their family anything.

 

When he faces down Voldemort, he has Dean's drawings and Abraham's smiles and Hermione’s books and Susan's pens and Draco's words and Seamus’ explosions in his mind. He is not dying for only parents and godparents lost; he is fighting for everyone still alive.

Death, right now, is not a surrender; it is a conscious decision. A sacrifice so that everyone can continue on. This is not bravery, except that yes, it is. Being clever, being cunning, can lead to bravery, the courage to take the steps that one sees as necessary.

If Harry is a Horcrux, then he has to die so that his family survives.

Harry lowers his wand as Voldemort raises his. Words that have haunted Harry’s nightmares ever since his first brush with Dementors shriek through the air as a green light flashes across his vision.

 

When Harry reaches the moment In Between, he doesn't meet Dumbledore. He doesn't land in King's Cross. He lands next to an all too familiar wardrobe and meets a young man who looks so familiar he could have sworn he knew him.

“So you're my nephew's brother?” The man asks, and Harry finally places him He looks just like Ms. Susan, though slightly darker in coloring. The gold crown on his head seems to glow in the lighting.

Harry nods. “Dean's my best friend. Is this heaven?”

The man shrugs. “If you so wish. Through that door-" and he points to the wardrobe- “Is Aslan’s land. There you can find paradise beyond your wildest imaginings. There you can join your family and I, Claudia and all those who have died. However, if you so desire, you may return home.” Edmund holds out a hand toward the door that Harry has exited hundreds of time. “Just out that door. You will return to battle, to your still living friends.”

Edmund looks him straight in the eye. “The choice is yours, young man.”

Harry thinks of Dean and Hermione, of years of friendship and chess games and facing down the worst of the world together. He thinks of Abraham and Susan and Claudia, Hanukkahs and trips to the courtroom and biscuits. He thinks of Blaise and Ron and Seamus, of ambition and loyalty and love.  He thinks of Draco, of soft kisses under green curtains and Patroni and the feel of Draco's trembling hand in his. He thinks of Hogwarts and courtrooms and libraries.

“I want to go back,” he says. “I have to do right by my family. I have to keep my promise to Claudia- _give ‘em hell, kid._ ”

And this man who Harry knows on the surface, knows what his life was like before Susan was pulled from Narnia, smiles. “My sister-in-law has told me much about you. She has spoke as to how Susan often remarked about how you remind her of me. I cannot say she was wrong.”

Harry smiles. "I'm glad you think so, Your Majesty." Then he has a thought: “King Edmund,” Harry says, and Dean's uncle seems to straighten. “Are you really here? Can I tell Dean that I met you?”

“I am as real as Claudia telling you to relate Clement Attlee to Dean, as real as a Penseive memory, my marriage to my husband, or a wardrobe that can transport someone from one world to another. My existence in your mind relies upon faith, my young friend.”

Harry nods. "Thank you." He continues his way to the door. Then, right before Harry steps out of the Room, he turns. “You would make a great Slytherin, Your Majesty.”

Edmund raises an eyebrow. His question, when he speaks, is not unkind, but merely curious. “Now why would you say that?”

Harry grins. “Because you never _really_ answered the question, did you?”

And then he steps through the door, his last glance of the In Between the pleasantly surprised look on Edmund's face.

 

When Harry awakens, he finds Draco’s father above him. The man who abused Draco is hovering over Harry, sneer as fixed on his face as always. Harry's heart falls as he realizes that he'll probably die again, until-

“Are my wife and son alive?” He asks, possessive. 

And Harry might have a chance, now.

 

When he gets to Hogwarts, body held in Hagrid's arms, Harry hears screams, recognizes Dean and Hermione and Draco's calls for his names, and opens his eyes just the slightest bit. Through his lashes, Harry sees Dean hand in hand with Seamus, Hermione and Ron by their side. Draco is standing with Susan and Abraham, his wand ready just as her bow is.

He sees the family he made for himself after his own family rejected him, called him _freak._ He sees the people he loves, the people who will fight- will _die-_ for him. He was prepared to die for them.

He watches Neville pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat and slice off Nagini's head, watches him become the hero they never realized he was. Then, the second phase of the Battle begins.

 

In the end, Draco takes down his father. Ron and Neville take down Crabbe and Goyle Sr. while Ginny and Astoria Greengrass finish Dolohov and Yaxley. Dean, Hermione, and Luna Lovegood end up facing against Bellatrix Lestrange until Molly Weasley comes barrelling in, spitting spells with all the ferocity of a vengeful mother.

Susan's arrow catches Bellatrix Lestrange in the back, and Molly finishes her off with a quick curse.

“You deserved worse,” Susan spits, standing over the corpse of a monster. Some of the wizards lining the room gape- perhaps at her bow, her lack of magic, her lack of forgiveness- but she doesn't care. This woman threatened Susan's children, her family, the people she has sworn to protect. She doesn't deserve mercy.

Then Voldemort turns on the two women, and Harry won't let anything happen to them. He runs out into the center of the hall.

The invisibility cloak drops and there stands Harry Potter in all of his glory, twirling a wand belonging to his boyfriend. Susan and Molly end up pushed into the circle of wizards around the room.

Then there are words about Mastery of wands and the revealing of old truths, but in the end what matters is simple: Harry promised Claudia Thomas that he wouldn’t let anyone else die.

In the end, the colours of the spells used are the same- green versus red- yet they do not represent Harry. Harry's tie is green as he spins his final spell, as the _Expelliarmus_ streaks its way toward Voldemort. What takes Voldemort down is not bravery, not chivalry, but cleverness. Harry figuring out the mastery of the wand, figuring out how to use Voldemort’s weapon against him- this is a very Slytherin thing to do.

 

When Voldemort’s body falls, there is a moment of stunned silence. Then three bodies break away from the crowd and rush to Harry, slamming him in a hug. Harry looks around to find Hermione, Dean, and Draco.

“You’re alive,” they all gasp at once when they let go, then Hermione and Dean burst into helpless giggles while Draco smiles, seeming genuinely happy for the first time in, well...since Harry can remember, to be honest.

Draco entwines Harry's fingers in his as Seamus, Ron, Luna, and Ginny run up to them. As they all hug, exchanging _thank god we’re alive_ s, Harry feels Draco’s hand alive under his.

Slytherins just like Draco and Harry make their way up to Harry. Millicent and Astoria, who spied for the Resistance within Hogwarts, and Blaise and Theo, who shepherded the first years away from the battle and to safety, all come up to Harry and hug him.

Harry looks at all these people- the DA, the Slytherins, the Thomases- and marvels at what has happened today. There are holes in the crowd everywhere- Claudia, Fred Weasley, Lavender Brown, Remus Lupin, Tonks- but there are so many people that have come together and defended each other. Slytherins and Purebloods stand beside Muggleborns and Muggles, in the case of families like Dean’s.

* * *

Harry and Hermione are best man and maid of honor at Dean and Seamus’ wedding. Hermione makes a toast about the Quidditch match where everyone cheered for them, including most of the players, which leads everyone into gales of laughter. Harry weaves a tale about childhood friends and lost families that leaves everyone with tears in their eyes.

Susan Pevensie, 82 years old, creaks out a smile as her first son grins, leans down, and presses a surprise kiss to his husband's cheek.

(The only explosions at the wedding are ones of compliments, showered upon the lucky couple, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. Seamus Finnegan has finally channeled his destructive tendencies into something productive as Hogwarts’ Dueling Instructor, and they're all relieved.)

 

Draco and Harry get married just as Harry dreamed of, when he first received his parents’ wedding album- in traditional clothing from the homeland of James Potters’ parents.

Draco's _jodphuri_ suit consists of a dark green jacket, for Slytherin, and a pair of gold pants for luck. Harry's _sherwani_ coat is red and silver, for his parents and for himself. He wants the best of both worlds, his and his parents’, just as he always has.

Abraham walks his second son down the aisle, walking cane in hand. Despite the arthritis curling his 87-year-old fingers, he manages to pulls off the same suit he wore to Claudia’s swearing in ceremony for MP.

 

Hermione and Ron’s wedding has far too many redheads, even for friends of the Weasleys, but the copious amounts of firewhiskey and Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes gets everyone through the night.

What is truly strange for a number of Weasleys, though, is that Hermione’s section of the wedding contains a number of Muggles _and_ Slytherins. Blaise, Millicent, Theo Nott, Draco, Harry, Astoria Greengrass, and even, to the shock of all, Pansy Parkinson, are in attendance. Harry, Millicent, and Draco are even members of the wedding party. Harry, Draco, Dean, Seamus, and George Weasley are Ron's groomsmen, while Ginny, Millicent, Luna, and Susan Pevensie, spry at 89, are the bridesmaids.

Harry Malfoy-Potter and Ginny Greengrass-Weasley are the best man and matron of honor. Her red hair is only accented by a dark red dress and she sits by Harry, who’s wearing a dark green suit.

“Still Gryffindor, I see,” Harry mutters out of the side of his mouth.

“More like my wife thinks I look good,” Ginny smirks, “But yeah. Thought it went with the whole Weasley theme. I see that you and your friends had to go screw with things, as usual.”

“It _is_ a hobby of mine.”

“Slytherins seem to really like that, don’t they?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, we do. Just ask your wife.”

“She tells me that everyday.”

 

Harry’s kids are named Orion Remus Potter-Malfoy, Claudia Violet Potter-Malfoy, and Jaanvi Narcissa Potter-Malfoy. Orion’s godparents are Hermione and Dean. Claudia’s are Seamus and Millicent. Jaanvi’s are Ron and Blaise.

Dean and Seamus only have one son, named Richard Caspian Finnegan-Thomas. He is adopted from an abusive family and is actually raised in Hogwarts itself, talking to ghosts and beloved by students at Hogwarts. He spends the summers at his grandparents home in Surrey and during the Holidays, his cousins visit.

Hermione and Ron’s children, Rose Susan and Hugo Abraham, have a relatively normal childhood. With a politician mother and a father who helps run a prank store, they get to see their parents often. 

\---

Susan passes away quietly in her sleep at the ripe old age of 95. Abraham passes not even a few months later.

They are buried in the same plot as Claudia, behind the Professor’s Mansion.

Susan the Gentle, mother, lawyer, and lover, is finally at rest.

\---

Every so often, Harry, Hermione, and Dean take their families out to visit the Mansion. It has passed into Dean’s name, but he and Harry have made it into a shelter for abused kids, whether Magical or Muggle. While Harry, Seamus, and Dean work at Hogwarts at Professors (Harry teaches DADA, Seamus Dueling, and Dean has taken over from Madam Pomfrey), they keep the Susan Pevensie Home for Wayward Children running.

Every time they visit, they go to the room with a wardrobe. They tell their children stories of their Grandmum Susan, of fairytales that take place in a magical place with giants and thoughtless gods. They teach their children the power of cunning and cleverness, of bravery and faith, of wisdom and curiosity.

They tell about an In Between, an Aslan’s Land, where the dead can speak to the living.

They live.

\---

Nineteen years after the final battle, Hugo Abraham Granger-Weasley enters the Wardrobe room looking for a place to hide from his cousins. He is only nine years old, and he has been raised on tales of lions with dubious moralities and Queens who were taken from their Kingdoms and lads who spent their entire lives trying to right their mistakes. He has been well-informed on the perils and the pleasures of the land of Narnia.

He is but nine, though, and he is his Grand-aunt’s nephew. He runs up to the wardrobe and yanks open the door. He doesn’t notice the light chill that suddenly fills the room, the way that the fur coats start to sway in the breeze. Hugo passes through rows of fur coats and steps into paradise.

For the first time since Susan Pevensie returned to England over sixty years ago, someone has opened the door to the wardrobe.

And Narnia is waiting.

 

_We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,_

_But no longer at ease here,_

_With an alien people clutching their gods._

_I should be glad of another death._


	2. you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from J.K. Rowling.
> 
> Story is non-linear, with references to child abuse, character death, and violence. Mentions of blood as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of at least two one-shots that function as prequel, sequel, and companion to the main story. They are mostly unrelated to each other, but I thought you would enjoy them. This first one is a Draco Malfoy character study as it pertains to this 'verse, the next planned is a much fluffier eighth-year story with a Deamus proposal. Hope you guys like!
> 
> (Also, "Dream" by Imagine Dragons is the perfect song to listen to when reading this chapter. Just a helpful hint.)

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Draco Malfoy.

His mother loved him and defended him. When the side she fought for killed people like him, killed his friends and new family, she switched sides. She defected, deciding to put her strength behind what her son believed was right. (What _she_ believed was right, eventually.)

His father thought he loved him, but instead of hugs and warmth and support, all he got was abuse and insults and scars.

\---

This is first time they've seen each other in over six months. The last time Draco saw Harry was the morning of that hellish night. They’d slept in the Astronomy tower, and woken up expecting a day like any other.

The last time Harry saw Draco was on the top of the Astronomy tower, that night, as Draco disarmed Dumbledore and Snape killed him.

Draco’s face is paler than normal, his features drawn and everything about him _thinner_ than normal. Harry wants nothing more than to wrap him in a hug, but he can’t. Lives hinge on him not showing any affection or even recognition of Draco Malfoy.

(Harry knows that he’s had Dean and Hermione for this school year, and before that he had the Order and the Weasleys and the Thomases during the summer. Draco has had nobody save his mother and maybe Snape since the battle last May.)

“Is this Harry Potter?” Bellatrix asks, dragging Harry and his Stung face in front of Draco.

Draco stares at Harry and Harry tries to remember to breathe.

“I don’t know,” Draco says, the most imperceptible of trembles to his voice. “I can’t be sure.”

“Throw ‘em in the dungeon,” Bellatrix snarls. “I’ll start with this one here, the mudblood girl.”

-

“C'mon,” Draco whispers as he spells open the door to the dungeon, “We've gotta get out. Dobby, get Lovegood, Griphook, and Ollivander. Thomas, Harry- let's go save Granger.”

Harry puts a hand on Draco’s arm and Draco stops. “Yes, Har-?” He asks, but gets cut off as Harry pulls him into a hug.

“Thank God you're alive,” Harry whispers into Draco’s hair, breath trembling, a world of worry between them.

Draco nods as they separate. He raises a hand to Harry’s face. His hands are shaking as they cradle Harry's cheeks. His fingers trace Harry's cheeks, feeling the features and skin that he hasn't been able to touch in months. Harry is paler, his face thinner, and Draco’s heart squeezes at the thought that he didn't get to witness what happened to make Harry this way. (More importantly, he hadn't been able to help Harry through it.).

“I was so worried about you,” Draco replies, nearly straining with the effort not to cry after so long apart.

“I know you guys need this,” Dean interrupts, “I really do, but Hermione’s in danger and we've gotta go help her!”

“Right,” Harry says, breaking away from Draco’s arms. His eyes harden, his wand arm raises. “We’ve gotta get her out of here.”

\---

Once upon a time, there was a boy.

He did not want to be the man his father raised him to be. He wants to be more, wants to strike out and fight and become something his father never believed in. He became the very thing his father fought against.

\---

A battle destroys the only home that Draco has known for the past ten years. It burns the dorms where he and his friends slept, destroys the Room where a small family celebrated Hannukah, kills people Draco has learned to love.

Everything leads to a room where two men wearing the same color fight each other. Spells are cast, and one falls.

Draco will forever be haunted by the single second Harry stood above a corpse, alone in the middle of a room. Harry is not a killer. He does not deserve blood under his fingertips, the guilt of war weighing on his shoulders.

\---

Here are the facts Draco Malfoy knows:

  1. Harry Potter is one of the best men he knows.
  2. Wars repeat themselves.
  3. His parents fought for what they believed in, a generation ago, and he nearly fought for the same thing. The only thing that prevents the cycle from continuing is change.
  4. The scars caused by parents are easily recognizable. They fester under the skin, darken circles under eyes, sit in slumped shoulders.



\---

When Draco first met Harry, he recognized some of these signs. He didn’t see many of them, but what he did see he picked up on. It wasn’t until he knew Harry’s full childhood story that he learned the truth behind every strange thing he’d thought suspicious.

When he learned about the Dursleys, he understood why Harry’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Draco’s father. He learned why Harry’s shoulders slumped, why it took him so long to accept compliments.

When he learned about the Thomas-Miller-Pevensies, he learned why Harry chose green, why he so fiercely strove to protect others. He learned why Harry held wonder for the world, why he insisted on everyone getting to know each other better and become friends. He learned why Harry had such drive and ambition, why he clawed and scraped for the power to change things.

Harry Potter has always been bitter, but for only some the same reasons Draco is.

And Draco loves this.

\---

There is blood in Draco’s dreams. It sprays over everything, lays under the corpses of Blaise and Hermione and Millicent and Dean and Pansy and Ron and Theo and Seamus and his mom and everyone he’s ever cared for.

Sometimes, Harry’s corpse rises to face him. It looks him in the eyes, opens its mouth to show a gaping black hole.

 _I never loved you,_ it doesn’t say.

 _You are weak_ , it never says.

“You’re not good enough,” it says, “You are your father, and your father’s father, and-”

Draco wakes up in a bed next to Harry, the boy he loves like he never felt loved before. He sits up in bed and feels pain crackles across his lips. Draco wipes at his mouth and comes away with red stained on the white fabric.

He bit himself to keep from screaming.

\---

Here is a fact: wars repeat themselves.

Here is a fact: violence repeats itself long after the battle is over, blood splattering across the minds of those not lying dead in the ground.

Here is a fact: those who live often cannot bear to see war continue, because they lived it and _continue_ to live it and can't bear to let others face the same fate.

\---

Draco pads downstairs, past his friends’ rooms, past his mother’s room, all the way to the kitchen. There he finds Susan Pevensie, reading an newspaper and sipping on that infernal coffee she likes.

He stops when he sees her. Susan Pevensie knows war. She was the general the Order of the Phoenix never quite acknowledged, the muggleborn with far more years of experience than anyone else. She was a queen who led armies, who fought battles Draco can’t imagine in his wildest nightmares.

“Nightmare?” Susan Pevensie asks, eyes a hard green, and Draco thinks of her in battle.

Draco sees this woman, sees what Harry and Dean and Hermione don’t. He sees not the Queen, not the mother or lawyer, but the general. He sees the soldier, the woman with blood on her hands, the creature of so many nightmares.

(The gray in her hair speaks to her experience, not all of it pleasant.)

Draco nods stiffly. “The world bled out,” he says, tone quiet but carefully neutral as he goes to brew a kettle of tea. It’s been two months since he started living in this mansion, so like the Manor yet so unlike it at the same time, and he’s learning to feel comfortable here. “And everyone died.”

“That’s war,” Susan says, eyes softened, and he thinks of her dead partner. He thinks of the woman that Harry called _almost-Mom_ , the woman who died defending the world that was never hers. “But that’s not peacetime. That’s not the world you fought to build.”

“Wars always happen,” Draco says, “I fought in one, my parents fought in one, you fought in the one before that. How can I ever be sure they’ll stop?”

Susan looks him dead in the eye. “You have to believe they’ll stop. You have to have faith that you can make the world a better place.”

“You were a Queen,” Draco says, mouth dry. Susan’s old back straightens, and he wonders just how many wars she fought. How many people did she watch die? Does she carry even more guilt on her shoulders than Harry does? “Harry and Thomas and Hermione have said so. You even gave Harry a picture book full of tales. Tell me- do the dreams ever go away? Do you ever learn to live?”

“I learned to build my own kingdom out of the wreckage of other people’s,” she says, something far away in her eyes and voice. “I watched as my siblings did the same, though we all went about it in different ways.” She looks at him, ancient eyes focusing on something he can’t see. “And I know you’ll do the same.”

The tea kettle whistles, and he removes it from the stove.

\---

Once, there was a boy who grew up.

He did not die in battle, did not cave to his father’s beliefs- he changed. He carved out what rotted and tried to let something new grow in its place. He fell in love with someone who loved him back, someone who did not care about the unchangeable scar on his hand.

He grew, and he changed, and he learned to live.


	3. to dance again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from song of the same name from A Very Potter Musical.
> 
>  
> 
> There's a dance their eighth year half as a celebration and half as a memorial. People dance, celebrate, drink, and deal with their issues.
> 
> Features Drarry, Ronmione, Deamus, Tonks/Henrietta, George Weasley/Viktor Krum, Susan/Claudia/Abraham, Parvati/Lavender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, no excuses for how long it took to post this chapter. Love you all and hope you like the giant monster of an ensemble epilogue this turned into.

Susan had honestly thought that Legilimency didn’t work on muggles. From what Harry told her, the assumption made sense- the lack of a magical core prevented the reading of magic-linked thoughts.

And yet, here is Narcissa Malfoy digging around Susan’s brains for the details of Dean’s planned wedding proposal. Susan can feel the threads of magic digging around her brain, not unfamiliar to the soothsayers when they sought to make tarot readings in Narnia.

“For the millionth time, Narcissa,” Susan says, “I’m not going to tell you how Dean plans to propose to Seamus.”

Narcissa turns her nose up. “If my son’s future brother-in-law is getting engaged, I’d like to know the details.”

“Dean hasn’t even told his brother yet- I’m not going to spill the details to anyone else.”

Narcissa rolls her eyes. “You Muggles and your privacy customs.”

Sausan raises an eyebrow. “Harry and Draco say that you have some of the greatest Occlumency wards in the British Wizarding World right now. I’m not sure you can exactly complain about other people’s want for privacy.”

Narcissa stares at Susan for a few moments, and if Susan didn’t spend over twenty years under the gaze of Edmund the Diplomat, then she may have felt slightly uncomfortable. Instead, she just sits there and lets Narcissa try to figure her out.

“You know, Susan,” Narcissa eventually says, “If you had been a witch, you would have made a good Slytherin.”

Susan recognizes the level of compliment the pureblood witch is levelling at her. She knows the value the label of “Slytherin” holds in the pureblood community, knows the level of regard Narcissa must be holding for her.

(And Susan is well aware of the fact that though she has theorized herself to be a Ravenclaw in the past, she holds far more traits in common with Harry and Edmund and Narcissa than she would with Professor Flitwick or any of the scholars back in Narnia.)

“Thanks,” Susan says, “But I'm still not telling you about Dean's proposal.”

* * *

Eighth year has been going about as well as Harry expected it to.

It’s equal parts good and bad, equal parts waking dream and nightmare.

He gets to be open with his boyfriend, gets to kiss him at the breakfast table and hold his hands on their way to class. He gets to spend time with all of his friends equally, gets to be both halfblood and Slytherin, Dean’s brother and a son of Slytherin house.

He doesn't have to be the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, at least not in Hogwarts. Now that Voldemort is gone, there is no great mystery to solve this year. There is no quest, just boring classes an overdue homework and snogging sessions in back corridors. He gets to be a normal student, if only for a year. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, honestly, but-

On the other hand, he is haunted by what happened here.

He can’t stop seeing Claudia’s body spread out in the Great Hall, where the Hufflepuff table has now been rebuilt. When he closes his eyes, he sees the broken body of the woman who helped raise him, the body of his godfather’s boyfriend, the bodies of Fred and Tonks and Lavender and so many members of the D.A. 

He  _ died  _ in that forest, watched each and every one of his friends kill for him.

(That isn’t something that just fades away. That is something that lingers, ruining sleep and haunting the waking hours.)

His friends don’t have it much better either, and for some of them it’s worse than it is for him. He, Dean, and Hermione only had to see Hogwarts destroyed in the final battle- the rest of their friends have far more persistent memories.

Draco and Luna were abducted right off of the Hogwarts Express. Ron, Seamus, and Millicent spent the entire year here as their beloved school turned into a war zone. They turned the Room of Requirement into a base of operation, turned their classes into dead drops and their dorms into illegal potion-making operation rooms. They watched- no, they  _ actively participated _ \- as their beloved home was turned into a ground for survival.

Now, some days, it’s easier to hear the screams of tortured students and the tears of firsties than the classes they’re taking. Some nights, it is far more common to be awoken by blood-stained nightmares than by someone getting up to use the loo.

They’re learning to deal with it, though. 

There are plenty of students who sleep cuddled around friends and partners, siblings and housemates. They have figured out ways around age-old charms on the castle, learning how to make it into opposite-gendered dorms and other houses’ common rooms and dorms without losing the sympathy of the castle. Students can be found gently stroking a railing or a wall, whispering gentle words to the castle herself.

So they’re learning to live, and it’s hard, but it’s more than most of them ever thought they were going to get.

And that’s enough for them.

* * *

A school dance is coming up. It’s apparently some Ministry thing- you know, show the heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts and all- but Harry’s all for the chance to have a proper date with Draco. There haven't really been many chances for that since, well, ever.

For the dance, Harry and Draco have decided to dress in traditional Indian dress robes. Draco dresses in a  _ jodhpuri  _ suit in traditional Slytherin colors- dark green jacket, black pants, and silver buttons and matching pocket handkerchief. Harry, on the other hand, is dressed in a medium blue and silver  _ sherwani  _ coat with dark blue pants and matching shoes, everything trimmed in gold buttons and thread.

(Only Draco asks him where the color choices come from. Harry pulls out his well-loved copy of the  _ Chronicles of Narnia  _ and opens up to the drawing of the coronation, where a far younger version of Susan Pevensie is wearing a dress of silver with medium blue sleeves with a cloak of dark blue over top, a crown of golden flowers in her hair.

“I wanted to honor both sides of my family,” Harry says, “The Potters and the Pevensies.”

Draco stares at Harry for a moment before saying: “I really want to kiss you right now.”

Harry grins. “Then do it.”

And Draco happily obliges.)

As soon as they enter the Great Hall, Harry pulls Draco forward to meet the white-haired couple crossing the Great Hall. There he meets Dean and Seamus, who of course want to see Dean’s remaining parents.

“Hey, kiddos,” Abraham says, smile wide.

Dean grins. “Hey, Dad!” He pulls his dad into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle his fragile bones. His father is nowhere near as young as his friends’ parents. There is arthritis twisting his bones, requiring him a cane to walk long distances.

Harry, next to him, is yanked in by Susan with far less caution. “Missed you, kid,” Susan says. “You been having a good year?”

Harry thinks of nights spent cuddling with Draco, triple dates in Hogsmeade with Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Hermione, chess games against Blaise, Ron, Seamus, and Pansy. He doesn’t think of nightmares, of panic attacks in back hallways and one extremely bad panic attack of Draco’s in the upstairs girl’s bathroom. 

“Yeah,” he says, “It’s been a good year so far.”

“Congrats,” she says.

 

Then Susan moves to Dean. “You ready for tonight?”

Dean grins, feeling the ring box bouncing in his robe pocket. “I've never been readier for anything.”

“Good luck, son,” Susan says, grin blindingly proud. She remembers when Peter proposed to Anna-Mae and Ravenna, when Lucy proposed to Samar, a lady of the Calormen court. She remembers the celebrations that followed, but most especially she remembers the happiness in their eyes afterward.

And she wants that for her son. Her baby boy Dean, who she remembers holding right after he was born. She remembers his tiny fingers curling around her index finger, remembers burping him and changing his diaper. How big he’s grown, both in maturity and literal height. He inherited the gargantuan height that had Claudia towering over both her and Abraham.

He’s not a baby anymore, and she’s so bloody proud of him.

 

Then Susan hugs Draco.

“Your nightmares getting any better?” Susan mutters to Draco, and the Slytherin looks down at her.

“A bit, yes,” he says.

Susan smiles. “Good.”

-

Harry can feel everyone's eyes on him and his friends as they dance. Makes sense- he  _ did  _ kill Voldemort, and he, Dean, and Hermione have been known as the ‘Silver Trio’ for years. They're war heroes in a world that just escaped a massive war- no wonder everyone is fascinated.

Harry became a Slytherin years ago because he knew that power could be used to help others. He had wanted to be someone like Ms. Claudia or Ms. Susan, someone who used their power to change the world for the better.

That doesn’t mean, though, that he wants all this attention. He just wants to make the people he cares about happy, just wants to be a normal teenager who goes on dates with his boyfriend without the world staring at him.

Draco spins him and when he lands back in Draco’s arms Draco asks quietly, “You all good, Harry?”

Harry looks into Draco’s clear, concerned eyes and smiles. Sure, he may not like the attention that dating Draco gives him, but he wouldn't give Draco up for the world. Draco, with his shared understanding of abuse and the pressures of war, with his kind eyes and sharp sense of humor and clear ambition. “All good,” Harry says.

-

Later on, when Harry and Draco are taking a short pause to grab drinks, they're interrupted by an old friend.

“Hey, Harry,” George Weasley says, tapping on Harry's shoulder, and Harry turns to find George with  _ Viktor Krum  _ of all people. The Bulgarian Quidditch player seems slightly less gloomy than he did during the Tournament, and Harry wonders if that has anything to do with his date.

“Hey, George,” Harry says, “Enjoying the evening?”

George nods. “Not as much as you are, though.” He winks at Draco, and Harry rolls his eyes.

“Pay attention to your own date, Weasley.”

George grins. “Don't worry, Harry, we're about to go bother ickle Ronniekins.” Then he turns and exits with a dramatic flourish that would make Blaise Zabini proud.

“It vas nice to see you, Harry,” Viktor says.

“Same to you, Viktor.”

-

As George dances with Viktor, recalling back hallway dates and dances back during the Triwizard Tournament, he still feels somewhat off-kilter. It is, after all, hard to rebuild from being half of a being, a reflection of a person, into one single human.

Viktor is definitely a help, having reconnected with George in the weeks after the war ended. Karkaroff died in a skirmish in the mountains, and nearly all the rest of the Death Eaters were either killed or in Azkaban. Thus, Viktor was able to finally start up a proper long-distance relationship with George without the worries of war or Death Eaters hanging over their heads. (And it's been amazing.)

George, now, is the owner of a joke shop that Ron, Draco, Ginny, and Viktor sometimes help out at. He's nothing too famous, especially compared to the Boy-Who-Lived, The-Brightest-Witch-of-Her-Age, or authors of the  _ Chronicles of Narnia. _

Dating Viktor, though, has caused as much paparazzi to follow them on dates as follow Harry and Draco when they go out. It's a rather strange experience, having people interested in George’s love life rather than whatever chaos he is wreaking. Some days it's a bit overwhelming, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. Viktor is an amazing man, caring and smart and clever in his own way, and George loves him just as much as he did his sixth year.

And besides, Viktor helps him forget the pain.

Everyday George thinks of Fred, feels the absence of his best friend and brother and better half by his side, but he is starting to spend less of his day thinking of grief. Instead, he has started thinking of Viktor, of his store, of his other friends.

He has started learning how to live.

“George,” Viktor says, voice soft, “Are you comfortable?”

George nods, giving Viktor a confident grin. “I always am when I'm with you.”

“You want to get out of zhis room?” Viktor offers, “Go do kissing and maybe pranking somewhere else?”

_ I fucking love this man.  _ “Sounds like fun,” George says, and they scoot their way out of the room.

-

Susan and Abraham are sitting at a table with Narcissa, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and Headmistress McGonagall. It’s certainly an interesting group, for sure.

“Do you want to dance?” Abraham asks, and Susan drags her gaze away from that one spot on the floor she’s been trying not to stare at all evening. She is used to death- she witnessed battle after battle in Narnia, oversaw the Great Outbreak in the Golden Age, watched Aslan himself be slaughtered in her first month of magic- but Claudia’s death nags at her no matter how much she’s made her peace with it. She has been with Claudia for over forty years now- it is hard to reconcile the fact that someone that ingrained in her life is gone.

(Claudia was certainly old enough to die, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.)

“Sure we can get those old bones up to the task?” Susan asks even as she takes Abraham’s hand. Their sons are happy.  _ They  _ are happy as they can be without their third partner. 

There is a hole between her and Abraham, but she knows that Claudia wouldn't want them to drown in grief.

Abraham smiles. “If our sons can do it, why can't we?”

And that's a challenge she's all too willing to accept.

\---

Hope is really fucking hard to kill. Dean hasn't decide if that's a good or a bad thing yet.

(Right now he’s thinking that it’s a good thing.)

Umbridge couldn’t kill Dean’s hope. For months, he carved  _ I will not tell lies  _ into the back of his hand as he refused to give up on his best friend. He spent months helping run an DADA organization under the watch of a dictator who wasn't afraid to torture those who defied her.

Dean watched Harry's godfather die. He watched as his soft, kind father turned himself into a soldier, his politician mother used the job she had always dreamed of using to provide for the poor as a military asset. He watched as his mother returned to the war she left in another world, became the Queen that she had long ago sworn away.

Throughout the war, while he was on the run with Hermione and Harry, hope kept him going through sleepless nights and Voldemort's horcrux around his neck and the death of his mother. He would think of his family, his faith, and most of all Seamus and the future they could have together.

Now, as he’s about to propose to the man of his dreams, hope flutters in his chest.

“Shay?” Dean asks, hand in his boyfriend’s.

His boyfriend turns toward him, looking away from the Weird Sisters. “Yeah, Dean?”

“I got something to show you. Mind coming with me?”

Seamus shakes his head, grinning crookedly. “Never.” Then he lets Dean pull him away, trust in every angle of his body.

\---

Standing in the Great Hall leads to a pressing weight on Hermione’s chest, a sense of panic descending.

She has to leave this room. She has to breathe again, to separate herself from this place where so many fought and died. She has to go somewhere that she feels comfortable, where the world doesn’t feel like it is collapsing in around her.

She finds herself ducking out of the dance and heading to the library, which she can always rely on to relieve the pain in her chest. Here, she is calm and at peace, transported to  far away and long ago, to galaxies yet undiscovered and magics no longer believed in.

She sits down in a window seat,  _ The Chronicles of Narnia  _ perched on her dress robes. She turns the pages, sinking into the adventures of King Edmund the Just, King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Lucy the Just, and of course Queen Susan the Gentle.

Things are quiet here, with a book in the corner of the library she grew up in. They are comforting and  _ normal. _

“‘Mione?” comes a familiar voice, and she looks up to see her boyfriend with a soft smile on his face. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Hermione shakes her head. “Of course not.”

Ron grins as he plops down next to her, adjusting his dress robes as he does, and arranges his body so that he’s sitting next to her, able to see the pages of the book as she reads them. For a few minutes they just sit there in comfortable silence as they read along to Ms. Susan’s adventures in a world a thousand years ago and infinite miles away.

Eventually, the silence is broken: “You do realize that Dean is a prince, right?” Ron asks.

Hermione chuckles. “Oh, really?”

Ron nods. “Queen Susan is one of his moms, right?” Hermione nods, remembering tales that the Thomases and Harry have told her over the years, of a world that was hard for her rational mind to believe in at first.

“Imagine Dean Thomas in a crown,” Ron says, a small smile on his lips. “And poncy clothing- he’d look like a proper Slytherin.”

“Oh, stop bashing on the Slytherins,” Hermione says, “Even if it’s true. But seriously, Dean’d make a good prince. He also makes such a good healer, though. I think he'd be most like Queen Lucy.”

“And Harry would be a prince too,” Ron says, “You know, ‘cause the Thomases have basically adopted him.”

“And we’d be their advisors, since Seamus and Draco would be their Consorts,” Hermione says, glad to add onto the fairytale.

Ron grins. “We’d make  _ fantastic  _ advisors. You, Dean, and Harry could make all the smart decisions with politics and the economy and all of those higher things-”

“-And you, Draco, and Seamus could deal with the military, diplomacy, and welfare.”

Ron nods. “We  _ do  _ have a lot more experience than you do with generalship, that’s right.”

They're feeling a lot better now. Humor does that to a person- it makes them forget pain, forget grief and agony.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Ron speaks. “You feeling better, ‘Mione?” Ron asks, eyes concerned and smile soft. 

Hermione looks at her boyfriend and smiles, thanking Merlin that she ended up dating someone who cares so much about her. She knows for a fact that she wouldn't have predicted dating Ron she first met him- he was too reckless, too immature, too hasty- but she was a bit of a know-it-all first year too. She's glad they both matured, even if she wishes it hadn't taken a war to do it.

“Yeah,” she says, “I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you for the help.”

Ron grins. “No problem.”

_ - _

There are still so many people staring at Draco and Harry as they dance, even this many months after Draco ran to Harry when the Battle of Hogwarts ended. Draco is used to that- whether he is by Harry's side or on his own, the Malfoy name is enough to draw attention.

And he's fine with the attention. He's a Slytherin for a reason, after all.

What does bother him, though, is the fact that even after the war has ended people are still expecting Harry to keep talking about the battle, about fighting Voldemort and explaining how he won. They are expecting him to relive the horror over and over, just to appease their curiosity.

“The war is over,” he remembers Ms. Susan saying.

And it has to be. Draco wants to be  _ happy _ , wants his nightmares to stop taking over his life. He wants to be able to kiss his boyfriend without worrying that this will all slip away the moment he blinks.

Of course, some people refuse to give Draco and Harry that courtesy.

“That’s disgusting,” Draco hears someone sneer, and he turns to find Zachariah Smith turning his nose up at them. “The Boy-Who-Lived dating a Death Eater? That’s despicable.”

“You won't turn this into another nightmare,” Draco hisses. “I won't let you.” Not when there are already so many demons haunting them, not when Harry's parents are here, not when so many people died here, in this hall-

“And neither will I,” Harry swears, stepping forward to take Draco’s hand. “Or would you rather us tell the world what you did in that bathroom sixth year?”

There's a reason Harry was put into Slytherin eight years ago, why he survived in a den of snakes throughout all of Hogwarts. There's a reason why they won the war, and it has everything to do with the power of words made sharp.

Zachariah scowls. “Malfoy’s a Death Eater, Potter.”

“He fought in this Hall at our side,” Harry says, teeth gritted. “He took down Death Eaters, took down his own father. Don't you dare compare him to the people who  _ killed _ my family.”

Draco notices the way Harry's eyes flick over to a spot on the ground about twenty feet away. Draco knows that that was the spot where the body of Dean's mother, Harry's adoptive mother, was kept for the battle until all the bodies were lifted elsewhere.

“You fought in that war too, Zachariah,” Draco says. “You know what we all went through.  _ You  _ went through the same thing. Can we just let our childhood problems lie?”

“Not when there are Death Eaters allowed to roam free,” Zachariah says, and the hatred in his eyes is searing.

Then, Draco blinks, and hears the simultaneous sounds of a  _ smack _ as Seamus Finnegan’s fist connects with Zachariah’s nose and a “ _ Colorum verde” _ from Ron Weasley that ends with Zachariah Smith's hair turning green.

“You don't mess with my friends,” Seamus says.

Ron nods. “Learned that the hard way,” he says, and it sounds like a joke but the flint in his eyes says otherwise.

Zachariah Smith goes running off, whining about Death Eaters and traitors, but Draco could care less.

“You know, if I get a detention for that it’ll be well worth it,” Ron says, turning back to Hermione. Draco nearly expects Hermione to argue with her boyfriend, but her grim smile says otherwise. “Nice spell, Ron,” she says, and Draco remembers that one) she is also a reckless Gryffindor, no matter how rational she may seem, and two) they have been through war. A detention isn’t much compared to staring down Bellatrix Lestrange.

-

Seamus looks at his hand, at the ring Dean gave to him just a few minutes ago. There’s a drop of Smith’s nose blood on it that he hastily tries to wipe off on his robes.

“Shit, Dean's gonna kill me,” he mutters.

“Why am I gonna kill you?” Dean asks as he walks up, glasses of butterbeer in hand, and Seamus holds up his hand, back side displayed to Dean.

(And, incidentally, the rest of the group.)

“Merlin's balls,” Draco swears, “Thomas proposed.”

Harry's face splits into a shit-eating grin and he runs to hug Dean. “Congratulations!” he shouts. “I’ve been rooting for you two for  _ year _ , practically since first year!”

“Congratulations, Thomas,” Draco says, and to Seamus’ surprise he sees a grin on Malfoy’s face.

-

The ring on Henrietta Tonks-Chopra’s finger is not a sign of joy.

Her wife died after just a year and a half of marriage, in a battle that had protected and saved the school they both had loved so much.

She doesn’t begrudge ‘Dora’s sacrifice. She knows that sacrificing her life for the school and world she loved is the way ‘Dora wanted to go out. She knows that wherever souls go to, ‘Dora is happy with how she went.

That doesn’t mean that Henrietta can’t be upset that ‘Dora is gone. She loved ‘Dora with every part of her heart. She loved ‘Dora’s sense of humor, her pink hair, her brave and loyal soul. She loved the way ‘Dora’s eyes, no matter their color or shape, always crinkled at the corners when she laughed, loved the way that ‘Dora embraced Sirius Black without reservation, instantly claiming him as her partner for prank wars and real battle.

‘Dora was one of the least judgemental people Henrietta knew, but her battle fury was legendary. She was an insanely strong spellcaster and, by her very nature, a master of disguise.

And now she’s gone.

Henrietta can still remember the moment she saw ‘Dora’s body laying next to Remus Lupin’s, the scream that had torn itself from her throat. She remembers her cousin Padma catching her in her arms, letting her sob into her chest. She remembers the way it had felt to have her heart ripped from her chest.

Parvati, her distant cousin, plops down into the seat next to Henrietta. Henrietta doesn't envy Parvati, despite her status as heir to the Patil name. Parvati’s girlfriend died in the Battle as well, and the dark circles under her eyes betray the fact that she still hasn’t gotten over it yet.

“Butterbeer?” Parvati offers, holding up a cup, and Henrietta shrugs.

“Why not?” she asks, and takes the alcohol in hand. She takes a large gulp that burns going down, but doesn’t ease the pain of grief.

“It hurts, I know,” Parvati says, and Henrietta follows Parvati’s gaze to where Padma is dancing with Luna Lovegood, the Bulstrode daughter, and Zara Zabini’s son. Padma has a grin on her face, clearly enjoying herself. She isn’t letting grief drag her down- instead, she is trying to make the most of their post-war freedom. Henrietta wishes she could do the same.

“But it will get better. It has to.”

Henrietta swallows back the lump in her throat. She’s not forgetting ‘Dora. She’s not even gonna get over her tonight, and probably not any night soon.

But she can start to let herself heal, and stop spending every waking moment dwelling in grief. She can try to do more than survive.

“You’re right,” Henrietta says as she sets the mug of butterbeer down on the table. “You wanna dance, cus?” Henrietta asks, holding out a hand as she stands up, and Parvati shrugs as she stands up too.

“Sure, I guess.” Her smile is bitter like Aunt Aadhya’s tea, but Henrietta desperately hopes that they will both get better with time.

First step: dance. Next step: life.

-

Then comes the main event of the evening- the memorial.

The music fades away as McGonagall steps onto the stage, casting a  _ sonorous  _ charm to amplify her voice.

“Now,” she says, and everyone in the Great Hall looks to her. “It is time for the Raising of the Wands and the Moment of Silence.”

The candles around the hall extinguish themselves as Harry raises his wand into the air, a hushed  _ lumos  _ escaping his lips, and he is quickly followed by Dean, Hermione, and Draco. Then come Ron, Seamus, Millicent, Blaise, and all the rest of the students, until the Great Hall is a sea of steady lights, almost like the souls of the dead have come to rest in this mortal plane again for just a moment.

(Susan’s fingers tighten around Abraham’s as they both raise candles in the air to join their children’s lights. Her heart clenches as she thinks of Claudia, watching over them from whatever afterlife she went to.)

“To the better world that those who died here hoped to build,” Professor McGonagall says, and no major speech is needed. This solemn moment, suspended in the middle of a night of celebration of the memories of the dead and the future of the living, is all that is necessary for now.

Henrietta looks up at the sky, at the lights of all those who lost the ones they loved, and tightens her grip on her wand. ‘Dora wouldn’t have wanted her to grieve- she’d have wanted her to make a place for herself to be happy in this post-war world.

Then, she lowers her light and extinguishes it as across the hall, the wand lights begin to fade. The candles around the hall begin to ignite again, and the music resumes.

Their world will never go back to normal, but it will grow and change and get better. They've all survived the worst that life can throw at them- what they have left is to figure out how to live in this brave new world.

But they have each other, and that's plenty to start with.

**Author's Note:**

> After the marathon of writing this monster fic, I hope you guys liked it. Please leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed!


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